30 Days After
by LastLeg
Summary: A virus has torn England apart. Now three women struggle to survive harsh living conditions while being held prisoner by a small group of former military soldiers. An extended alternate ending to the movie. Rating for language and adult content.
1. Survivors

**Writers Notes:**

Hello Kittens! It's been years but I'm still here! Unfortunately real life has limited my time to write out these endless tales that are forever re-playing in my head. This is one that I've been thinking about for the last 6 years, believe it or not. I was intrigued by the messages portrayed through the characters in the film "28 Days Later" and I just couldn't help but think what if? So I finally sat down and put all my notes together and came up with a plot! If you're already thinking "Omg I h8 zombie/horror stories" or "I never watched the movie!" Never fear! This is definitely not one of those fics. **I don't do horror. **This story builds upon the drama between the characters so even if you haven't seen 28DL, the average reader will still "get it." For personal reasons I managed to keep the raunchiness to a minimum in comparison with my other stories. I've never been to England so after some lengthy research on British culture (and there's a lot of it) I came up with something I'm proud of.

Now for a little disclaimer action: This story is in no way shape or form making me any richer, nor meant to disrespect or slander the creators (FOX Searchlight) of the film in question, actors, screen writers, directors/producers, and whatever big shots that had a hand in making such an inspiring movie! This is just a crappy (not literally) fanfic by a sadistic fan who doesn't even have a job to pay you with should I somehow get sued for whatever reason.

Read and Enjoy!

30 Days After by Lastlegolife

Chapter 1: Survivors

_Manchester, England_

Gray clouds covered the skies over the empty highway. The air was humid and promised rain by nightfall. The M602 would usually be crowded at this time of day. But it hadn't been used in nearly a month. The lush vegetation along the side of the road grew wild and free and was in bad need of proper trimming.

A small black cab sped down the abandoned highway, unbound by traffic rules and law enforcement officers. Grocery bags and suitcases were strapped down to the roof of the vehicle. More treasures jutted out through the back end of the cab. The trunk lid, which was tied down, held everything in place.

Frank, the driver, squeezed the steering wheel in anticipation. After all this time they'd finally reach the sanctuary they'd been hoping for. He glanced in the rear view mirror at his daughter, Hannah, a short and skinny brunette, who was sleeping in the backseat. The fifteen year old girl folded her arms against her chest and leaned against the woman next to her. Selena, whose features resembled that of an African goddess, merely shut her eyes and pressed her head against the cold window glass.

A third woman occupied the other window seat in back. She too was dark-skinned, tall, and a Yank. They'd picked her up only yesterday in the back of an abandoned store in Birmingham while searching for food. She told them that she'd been hiding there for many weeks, lost and alone. The twenty-something girl was just as ecstatic as they were when she learned about the surviving military base in Manchester. They welcomed her to their traveling party with open arms. She said her name was Lucia.

There was an obstruction on the road up ahead.

"Is that it?" Jim, the other man in the car, asked from the passenger seat.

"42nd Blockade," Frank nodded, slowing the cab down to a reasonable speed. "This is it."

Walls of metal and barbed wire stretched across the road. Concrete barriers lined the sides of it. A pair of empty military jeeps sat quietly near the open gate leading further into the barricade. Frank drove the small cab through a handful of overturned civilian sedans and passed an empty security booths. Upon entering the gates there were more military vehicles with massive guns mounted on them and empty supply trucks. Beyond that lay dozens of green tents and a lone helicopter but no life.

Frank stopped the cab and the passengers stepped out to look around. The same knowing expression read on their faces as they wandered around the area, hoping to find some sign of life. The older man examined a wide canopy tent that housed an outdoor kitchen and benches with plates of rotting food and sour coffee on them. Flies and scavenger beetles feasted upon on the abandoned leftovers.

Hannah approached him. "I don't understand Dad. Did they leave?"

"I don't like this. I think we should leave," Selena called from across the way.

"No!" Frank yelled back. He whipped around and peeked into the window of the helicopter. "Vehicles. We have to check the vehicles! There's gotta be something!"

Lucia quietly examined the helicopter from the other side. She pulled the door open and inspected the cockpit in hopes to find something of use or a simple sign that it was even still flyable. That would be good enough for her... even if she didn't know how to operate one. She sighed at how silly the idea was and hopped out.

Frank frantically peeked inside every vehicle in sight. The others followed him hopelessly.

"Frank?" Selena pleaded.

"We have to go?"

The brown goddess nodded softly. "Yeah."

"Go fucking where?!" He shouted.

The hush over the camp was deafening.

Frank stormed off toward the empty booths alone. He paced around the open gates in heavy thought. All of their hopes to for rescue had been shattered. If soldiers couldn't even survive through this, how the fuck did he expect to save Hannah. Going back to his flat would be pointless now for lack of food and water. Perhaps the grocery store where Lucia had taken up shelter would better serve as a temporary hideout. It wasn't safe but at least they have a roof over their heads and nourishment. He needed time to think.

_Caw! Caw!_

Frank glanced upward. A decomposing corpse dangled from the roof of the next booth. A crow perched himself on the body, announcing his presence to the man below.

"Get out of it," he muttered.

The crow cawed again mockingly.

"Get out of it!" Frank growled and kicked the gate beneath him.

The tremor passed through the sheet metal and channeled into the pole that impaled the corpse above. A fatal drop of blood plummeted to the earth, striking Frank in his left eye. He gasped, clutching his face in horror. Pulling back his hand he saw a smear of contaminated blood on his finger.

"Dad? Are you alright."

His concerned daughter appeared before him.

"Yes sweetheart," he said to her softly. "I'm sorry I lost my temper."

Satisfied, the young girl turned to leave.

"Hannah," he called her back. "I love you... very much."

She chuckled and went over to hug him.

Frank reared back. "Keep away from me!"

Puzzled, Hannah moved a bit closer. "Dad, what's wrong?"

"Keep away from me!" He grabbed her arms and shoved her back. Her screams alerted the rest of the party and they came running. "Keep away!"

Frank stomped around in a circle, flailing his arms and screaming at the top of his lungs. Selena dropped to Hannah's side. One look at the old cabby and she knew.

"Jim!" She shrieked to the younger man. "Jim, he's Infected! Kill him!"

"No!" Hannah screamed and lurched forward only to be stopped by Selena. "No!"

Jim raised his baseball bat but hesitated.

"Jim kill him!" Selena kept the young girl pinned to the ground. "Kill him!!"

"No! No!" Hannah protested.

Frank turned to the younger man and glared at him through dark red eyes. Blood dribbled from the corners of his mouth. There were no words to reason with. The Rage virus had completely taken over his body. Eat to kill, kill to eat. He was no longer the happy-go-lucky cabby they had grew to know. He was now an Infected.

"Kill him!"

Frank charged.

Gunfire echoed throughout the abandoned camp as bullets ripped through his torso. More invisible bullets rained from above striking the corpse as it crashed to the pavement. The firing ceased. Movement in the brush nearby caught everyone's eye. A gun and a head covered with a gas mask popped up above the lush foliage.

"Stay away from him!"

In front of them a second masked soldier rounded the corner with his gun drawn. He took aim at the corpse at Jim's feet. "Keep away from the body!"

The four civilians looked on in shock.

"Dad?" Hannah's eyes never left her father.

Frank was dead.

* * *

Private Clifton drove the black cab down the M602 gladly leaving the ruined blockade behind to rot. He glanced into the rearview mirror at his own pale face and scratched his rugged chin. When was the last time he'd shaved? He wore a green hood jeweled with colorful buttons and pins. He lifted it and scratched his pale forehead absently. When was the last time he gave a damn? Who cares what you look like when it's the end of the world! But perhaps, just for tonight, he would.

The soldier glanced at the small truck following behind him. In the back sat the four survivors. Each with their head down replaying Frank's death in their head. The soldiers had dragged his remains away into the brush to lay amongst a cache of bodies stored away near the campsite. Hannah silently stared off into space. She cried at first, but then drifted off into an eerie silence and hadn't spoken since. Lucia felt terribly for the girl but there wasn't a word that she could say to make it better. It was best to let her deal with it on her own.

Corporal Mitchell accompanied the four in the back of the truck. He towered over them, leaning against the side railing near the machine gun mounted on the roof of the vehicle. A grin spread across his lips as he scanned over the women. Had they all not hung their heads in sorrow over the loss of their dear friend, they would have noticed his blazing fascination with the African goddess.

Sergeant Farrell, the oldest of the three soldiers, occupied the drivers seat of the truck. Finally their efforts to find survivors had paid off. It was no doubt the others would be as equally elated to see them.

The cab turned abruptly onto a dirt road hidden in the brush. There was nothing but trees and fog as far as the eye could see. Mitchell spoke into a radio announcing their approach to a voice on the other end of the frequency. After a few minutes they turned onto a small unmarked street. The trees disappeared and revealed a massive field of green grass. Out in the distance sat a three-story red brick mansion. As they came closer they saw it had been converted from a typical English country house to a militarized fortress.

The vehicles passed through a set of iron gates. As they followed the dirt path, they approached a make-shift fence of barb wire and metal. Two soldiers in green camouflage appeared and carefully moved it out of the way so they could enter.

A slender man appeared between the two pillars in the main doorway of the house as they pulled up. His red hair had been shaven down to mere peach fuzz, and his brow was as bold as the rest of his facial features. His height and stature suggested his authority and demanded respect as he towered over all others present. The truck stopped and the quartet hopped out. The tall man stepped forward with a smile as gentle as his voice.

"I'm Major Henry West," he scanned over each of the weary survivors and shook their hands as they introduced themselves. "We have clean beds, with clean sheets, and a boiler that produces hot water, so you all can have a shower."

Lucia nearly salivated at the thought of a hot shower. No more trying to wash up with cold water out of a bathroom sink. She glanced over the area around them. There were sandbags and barbed wire everywhere. Flood lights were mounted high on various parts of the house. Raised platforms with heavy machine guns standing by in wait were positioned all around them. Her gaze passed over the other soldiers who stood nearby. She cut her eyes over to one in particular who couldn't seem to take his eyes off Selena's backside.

_Perv._

Major West politely ushered them into the house.

Lucia expected to see more civilians wandering the hallways around the foyer but was disappointed to see that there were none. The commanding officer led them to a guest room on the first floor and pointed them to a bathroom with a nearby shower attached to it. He promised them more suitable quarters by the nights end and left the room. Lucia was second to bathe after Jim. She couldn't remember the last time warm water felt so good. Unfortunately she'd have to put her original clothes back on. Thank goodness she had a couple spare shirts and a change of underwear in her bag in the trunk of the cab.

It appeared that they were the only civilian survivors in the building alongside of eight or so military men. She wasn't sure if she should feel happy or let down but it was a relief to be around more people and armed ones at that. But at the same time she was hoping for rescue, and it seemed like these soldiers were just as stranded as she had been in the back room of the grocery store. Wether she liked it or not it would have to do. At least there were guns.

Unlike the States, obtaining a firearm was very difficult in England. Strict and enforced gun laws prevented the average citizen from owning one. Even police officers had to abide by the rules. A beautiful law to maintain a peaceful nation it was indeed. But since Infection Lucia couldn't help but miss the Second Amendment.

_I just wish the testosterone levels in this place weren't so high._

She shook away the thought. By the time Lucia finished washing up it was nearly nightfall so she decided to explore the house leaving Jim, Selena, and Hannah alone in the room.

* * *

The other two adults watched carefully over the teenage girl, whom fell asleep on a bed. Selena sat by the window, obviously still distraught over the days events. Jim sat nearby to offer her some comfort.

"How is she?" He asked.

"She's lost her dad, Jim," The African goddess chuckled painfully. "That's how she is... It's all fucked."

"What do you mean?" He asked softly.

Selena curled her legs up to her body and broke into tears. Jim laid a soothing hand on her shoulder.

"Don't do that," he cooed over her sobs. "Hannah is just like Frank said. She's a tough girl. She'll learn to cope with it just like you and I, and all of us have coped."

Selena shook her head furiously.

"I don't want her to fucking cope! I want her to be okay! When Hannah had her dad, it was okay for them, and okay for us," She shook her head again. "Now it's all fucked."

Jim watched her for a moment and suddenly kissed her. Caught off guard, Selena reared back and stared into his eyes before locking lips with him again. He'd been attracted to her since the first day they met in the streets of London but the African goddess wasn't so easily won over. The harsh reality of their situation had ignited her instincts for survival and she'd suppressed all emotions in order to do so. But seeing a family torn apart before her very eyes left her with a feeling of weakness and vulnerability.

Jim wrapped his arms around each other in a gentle embrace, but Selena pulled away from him abruptly and flew out of the room.

* * *

According to the 'resident tin-opener' of the house, dinner was served.

Lucia was likely to be the last to arrive at the table. Her exploration of the house had taken her to the study. It was a cozy room with a few fancy sofas and chairs sitting in a circle at the center of the room. There were tall book shelves against every wall except for the farthest which was home to three tall windows. The drapes had been pulled back and tied elegantly with golden ropes. On the back wall over the fireplace was an old oil painting of the mansion's former mistress whose now infected remains lay motionless somewhere in the neighboring woods with six large bullet holes in her chest.

Lucia paid little attention to it for her eyes were attracted to the large boxes that occupied every corner of the room. She ran her fingers across the words on one of them trying to make sense of the letters in the dark. _S-H-A-R-P_. She inspected another corner and found many other labeled boxes with pictures of stereo systems and other electronics on them.

Her brow wrinkled with confusion.

"Hey!"

Lucia looked back over her shoulder, not least bit startled. A tall man with a very uneven haircut stood in the doorway observing her.

He stuck out his thumb and pointed towards the hall. "Soups on." The soldier stepped aside to let her pass then followed closely behind her.

The house had to be kept dark to avoid attracting the Infected still wandering around the woods. For a few moments, she was disappointed that he didn't insist on leading the way. The last thing she wanted to do was trip over something, but after feeling his eyes burning into her back, she understood.

"What's your name?" He asked.

She hesitated a moment. "Lucia."

"That's pretty." He said in a tone that annoyed her. "Are you an American?"

Lucia maintained a quickened pace though his body language suggested otherwise."That's right."

He took longer strides to catch up. "You're far away from home. How old are you?"

Something inside her gut didn't want to give an answer Up ahead there were sounds of chanting.

**"Will there be chips or jacket spuds? Will there be salad or frozen peas?"**

"What's that?" She asked.

"Just the boys celebratin' I guess. You're the first survivors we've seen since it started."

Lucia managed to get to the dining room without having to answer anymore of his questions.

In the center of the room sat a long cherry wood table. Each place was set out neatly with all the utensils, napkins, and plates laid out in their correct spots. The middle of the table was taken up by several silver polished candlestick holders which supported the only light source in the room. The soldiers were howling some sort of song she had never heard of before and beating their fists rhythmically against the table. They paused momentarily and looked up as she wandered into the room. She decided to take a comfortable seat in the corner next to Jim and the others

**"Will there be mushrooms? Fried onion rings? You'll have to wait and see!"**

The men continued to chant and smile.

Private Jones busied himself around the back table against the wall. He wore a ruffled pink apron over his green camouflage uniform. The image nearly made Lucia smile but her unsettling stomach forbade it.

**"Hope it's chips, it's chips! We hope it's chips, it's chips!"**

Moments later, the voices of the men arose and the chant was broken. The air was filled with applause and shouts of praise. Puzzled the four newcomers remained silent. Major Henry West entered the room dressed formally in a fancy military uniform and hat. A smile crossed his face as he walked tall and proudly to his seat directly across from Hannah. Private Jones shut the door behind him.

West casually reached over to Clifton and yanked the green hood from his head. He tossed it onto the table and looked around the room, gently signally for everyone to quiet down.

"So, what have we here." He glanced around at the platters Jones had neatly set onto the table. "Tinned ham, tinned peas, tinned beans, and . . ."

He paused at the covered platter and glanced up at Jones who grinned eagerly. The soldiers leaned forward in their seats as West lifted the lid. They gasped in amazement.

"Omelette!" West looked around the room in surprise. Then said to the pretty private, "You've prepared a feast Jones!"

Lucia struggled to cover the utter look of disgust that had crept it's way onto her expression as the Major listed the contents of tonight's meal. Is this what they called a feast? Even while in hiding in the back of the store, she had plenty of food at her disposal. Surely a house so grand had more than just canned carrots sitting in the pantry? From the looks of it the rations her were going to meager. Somehow this place seemed like a notch down on the shit list. But seeing as how she was in no position to complain or demand, she simply sighed inwardly and tried to remember if there was an irradiated apple in her bag outside.

It was then Lucia noticed the Sergeant sitting next to her at the end of the table. The Scottish man was staring hard at everyone around the table. He looked as if though someone had just spit in his tea, though he was uncomfortably silent.

"In honor of our guests, sir,"Jones announced proudly.

West picked up his fork and used it to tear a piece of the omelette away and onto his plate. "I was going to make a toast but this omelette will do just as well."

Selena and Jim gave each other a strange look.

West raised his fork in the air with a large chunk of egg dangling at the end of it. "To new friends."

"To new friends," the soldiers repeated.

Everyone's anxious eyes watched as West's fork carried the eggy substance up to his mouth. His jaw rose and fell twice then he stopped and his eyes grew wide. He looked at the pretty pink private accusingly then leaned over his plate and let the eggs fall out of his mouth. He tossed his fork down with a clatter.

"Jones, did you notice while cooking that these eggs were off?" His tone surprised everyone.

Jones glanced quickly around at his comrades who averted their gaze. "I-I thought the salt might cover the taste, sir."

West softened his voice and picked the last bits of egg from his teeth and tossed it onto the plate. "Get rid of it."

The pretty private hopped to his feet and began to do as he was told. Many incoherent grumbles of disappointment arose from around the table. West sat down in his seat and placed his napkin on his lap with a heavy sigh.

"I don't suppose you can cook can you?" He said to the three females sitting across from him. "Can't tell you how badly we need somebody around here with a little flair in the kitchen."

The ladies skipped a breath and gave him the same polite 'fuck you' look.

The soldier with the poor haircut, Private Davis, twirled his fork around against his plate absently. "What a fucking disappointment. When I saw those eggs, I thought it was Christmas."

Private Bell, the only other dark-skinned person in the room, lifted out of his seat and speared a thin slice of ham laying on the platter across from him with his fork and dropped it onto his plate. "We'll all be having eggs again soon once everything's back to normal."

Corporal Mitchell was quick to speak. "Ah, you muppet! Look at him, eh? He's still waiting for Marks and Spencer's to reopen. Listen mate, you don't know nothing!"

The newcomers shifted their eyes back and forth between the soldiers nervously as they all laughed at Mitchell's words.

"Well I think Bell's got a point," the Sergeant cut in. He was the only one of them who wasn't enjoying the laughter. "If you look at the whole life of the planet, we, you know, man has only been around for a few blinks of on eye. So if Infection wipes us all out, that is a return to normality."

There air became tense as everyone fell silent, possibly taking in his words. It was uncertain.

The Sergeant turned to the dark soldier. "Is that what you meant, Bell?"

The private shrugged. "Yeah, yeah."

"Have you met our new-age Sergeant?" West chuckled. "Our spiritual guru?"

The newcomers pretended not to hear him and looked away as the rest of the men giggled. The Sergeant was not amused.

"Tell me Farrell, why exactly did you join the army in the first place?" West asked in a mocking tone.

He went on.

"Let me tell you what I've seen in the four weeks since Infection." West started. The room remained quiet as he spoke. "People killing people; which is much like I saw in the four weeks before infection and the four weeks before that. As far back as I care to remember, it was just people killing people, which in my mind puts us in a state of normality right now."

The commanding officer received several odd glances from the newcomers but nobody noticed. No one moved or spoke for several seconds. Selena was first to come out of her trance and turned to the fifteen-year old girl next to her who seemed to be a stone's throw away from falling completely into shock.

"You're not eating," she said to her quietly.

"I don't want to eat," the girl replied softly.

"You must eat Hannah." West said with a gentleness that his men rarely ever got to see.

Hannah turned her gaze up to him. "I don't want to eat. I want to bury my dad. He's one of the people you're talking about?"

Major West could tear down the opinions of his second-in-command and preach proverbs to his men, but in the face of a little girl he couldn't think of a witty response and only nodded in agreement.

A large explosion outside rocked the room.

The plates rattled hard against the table. The soldiers jumped up and grabbed their guns. Sergeant Farrell began yelling out commands and directed everyone to get to their places outside. The newcomers watched slightly entertained as they all sprang into action. Sirens began to blare and the flood lights lining the front lawn switched on.

Jim and Selena ran after them and stopped by one of the windows in the foyer to watch the battle commence. To Lucia's surprise, West didn't make any moves to join in on the fight. Since he stayed, she stayed. There was no way in Hell she would leave Hannah alone with him after that little speech. She could already tell that something was up. Peace didn't live within the walls of the mansion and it never would.

"There's no need to worry," he assured them. "These sort of attacks happen every so often."

"That's nice to know," Lucia replied.

He tilted his head at her slightly. "Are you an American?"

The bullets stopped and the siren ceased. Everyone listened to the soldier's chatter as they reentered the mansion

She smirked. "Is it that obvious?"

"Are you an exchange student or just visiting?"

Lucia shrugged. "I think I've been here long enough to declare residency now."

The Major studied her a moment. Though her physical features retained the youthfulness of a teenager, the serious manner in which she carried herself suggested that she was a twenty-something woman well matured beyond her years. Lucia had skin the shade of creamy milk-chocolate. Natural beauty blessed her with an even-sized nose and a set of perfectly proportioned lips. Her sharp eyes were well complemented by a pair of thin eyebrows and medium length hair. Genetics allowed her to be tall but, to her dismay, thicker in several undesirable areas.

Suddenly Selena's shouts echoed into the room. Lucia was just about to get up but Major West beat her to it. He excused himself from the table and left the two girls alone.

Lucia turned her head toward Hannah. "Do you think staying here is a good idea?"

Maybe her assumptions were wrong? Or maybe it was because she was surrounded by so many strangers in a foreign land? Hannah shook her head silently.

Lucia slouched back in her chair. "Me neither."

She picked up her steak knife and wrapped the blade up with her napkin then stuffed it all in her right pocket. She grabbed several pieces of tinned ham from the platter and started to gobble them down quickly. She'd be damned if she starved tonight.

"Sergeant Farrell!" They heard West yell from the foyer.

"I don't like him." Hannah admitted.

"He's sure got a power complex doesn't he?" Lucia said. "I think we walked right into the middle of a civil dispute between those that believe his bullshit and the few that don't. I don't like having to live by the rules of power hungry men."

Lucia got up from her chair and went to the door to see if she could see what the others were doing. She watched Selena hurry down the adjacent hallway in a huff. Jim appeared and looked after her, then turned around toward Lucia and motioned for her to follow.

Lucia turned back to the dining room. "Come on Hannah."

By the time both girls entered the foyer Jim was already heading into another room with Major West. They could hear the voices of the other soldiers talking outside. So instead they followed Selena and went to their temporary quarters.

Selena had the machete raised and ready to strike as they walked into the door causing them to pause in mid-step. She breathed a sigh of relief and lowered her weapon before taking a seat next to the window sill. Lucia shut the door behind them and leaned against it. Hannah laid down on the bed and shut her eyes. Selena was visibly upset about something. Her hands were trembling even though she was fighting hard to keep them steady.

Lucia studied her for a few moments before she spoke. "We can't stay here. There's something not right about this place."

Selena leaned back and shut her eyes. She didn't speak for so long that Lucia thought she was being ignored.

"We can't go anywhere tonight," she said finally. "But we are DEFINITELY leaving tomorrow."

"I'll try to swipe a gun if I can."

Selena chuckled. "They'd shoot you first."

"Somehow I seriously doubt that."

There was a knock at the door. Lucia moved back and opened it. It was Jim and Major West.

"We have rooms all ready for you upstairs," he announced. "Get your stuff."

Now was not the time to discuss their plan to flee at the break of dawn. Jim and the others were taken outside where Frank's old black cab was parked. West waited by the doorway while they gathered their belongings. Lucia causally went to the front of the cab and pulled the keys out of the ignition and stuffed them in her left pocket while the Major was momentarily watching the men drag the bodies of the Infected off the lawn. He led them back into the house and up the tall staircase.

Lucia despised staircases. She took up the rear of the group. Jim dropped back to walk with her.

"What happened?" She asked in a low voice.

"He apologized." Jim looked at the floor. "Said it wouldn't happen again."

"You buy that?" Lucia looked at him.

He didn't have to answer. She dug into her pocket and pulled the keys out, careful not to let them jingle, and pressed them into his hand. He nodded silently and put them away.


	2. Necessary Evil

30 Days After by Lastlegolife

Chapter 2: Necessary Evil

The rain started up again outside and the lightening flickered across the forest striking tree after tree. The Infected wandered around aimlessly and stared up at the sky, hoping to spot a meal hiding up in the treetops. The weaker ones sat against the trunks, vomiting globs of blood all over themselves and gagging. The few Infected heading in the direction of the mansion would miss it by only a few miles.

Lucia's room for the night was slightly bigger than her room back home. It was already fashioned with clothes and trinkets from it's previous owner, most likely a girl. She prayed that their spirits wouldn't be visiting her in the night. She didn't bother to unpack as Major West had suggested. Instead, she put her bags next to the bed and only striped down to her underwear and t-shirt. Her pants and shoes were sitting on the floor, ready for her to step into them and run out of the room... if it came to that. She debated briefly if it would be wise to push the dresser against the door.

Selena and Hannah decided to sleep in the same room down the hall. Jim's room was several doors away from that. If they wanted to leave early they would need to be able to come in and get her so she left the dresser as it was.

Lucia carefully placed the steak knife under her pillow near the edge and laid down under the covers. She waited for what seemed like hours for sleep to come. Her mind faded in and out of reality but she never crossed fully over into the realm of sleep. It never was easy for her to fall asleep in unfamiliar places. It was during the night when she always became homesick. She sighed heavily and rolled over facing the door on the other side of the room. She prayed that they would be able to find a safer place to stay. The only bad thing that could happen would be that they would be forced to come back and throw themselves on the mercy of the Major.

She listened to the rain beat on the glass outside her window, slowly becoming hypnotized by it's sound. A low humming sound made her open her eyes a pinch. She figured it was the beginning of a dream and made herself wake up so that the sound would stop, but it didn't. She opened her eyes all the way and listened harder, lifting her head slightly off the pillow. The humming sound was actually voices but she couldn't make out the words.

The door knob jiggled.

Lucia dropped her head and reached under her pillow and gripped the knife handle. The door opened a little. Lucia closed her eye lids and peeked through narrow slits. She slowed her breathing down and pretended to be asleep. Someone poked their head in and watched her for a few moments. The voices were louder now that the door was opened. The head withdrew and the voices stopped. The door opened a little wider. Even though it was dark she could still see the one...two...three other people that entered the bedroom.

She squeezed the knife handle as they moved around the bed. One positioned himself at the head of the bed and began to take off his jacket. Another stood beside her, watching her as she slept. The third was somewhere near the door outside of her vision moving around. The one closest to her leaned over her and touched her cheek...

Lucia reared up and brought the knife up in a circular motion quickly toward her intruder and connected. Though she didn't know exactly where, there was a satisfying scream of pain. In one smooth motion she brought the knife down at a different angle and jabbed the man at the head of the bed in his thigh and twisted it. She had means to pull it out and use it on the third intruder but the second man touched her fingers as he reached down to cradle his injury. Lucia panicked and yanked her hand away. She shoved the first man into the third which sent them both flying backwards and they fell on the ground. Lucia leapt over there and tumbled out of the door into the mildly lit hallway.

At the end of the hall, which was the only way she knew of that would take her downstairs, was blocked by West and Sergeant Farrell who were engaged in a debate. Both men looked up when they heard the door open. They weren't expecting to see Lucia come spilling out. She took one look at them and dashed around the opposite corner. Davis fell out of the room holding his bloody cheek and wailing. West swore under his breath and started down the hall after Lucia.

"Take care of him," he called back to the Sergeant.

Jones, the third man, dashed out of bedroom and followed.

Further down the hall, Lucia had stopped to listen to the screams coming from inside Hannah's bedroom. Her eyes bulged in horror. There was no use opening the door, it was too late for them. She heard heavy footsteps coming toward her. She ran into one of the rooms at the end of the hall and slammed the door shut.

It was a janitorial closet. She locked the door and looked around. The lightening flickered and drew her attention to the window at the other end of the small room. She gave the latch a twist and lifted it open. There was a hard bang at the door, then another. The lock held. She poked her head out of the window and judged the distance to the ground. The ledge under the window was only about a foot wide.

The screws holding the latch in place cracked.

She climbed out of the window in the rain, waving her toes around and feeling for the ledge. Once she got a sturdy foothold she pulled the other leg down and held on tightly to every little hand hold she could find. She started to slowly creep her way to the corner of the mansion.

Back inside the screws finally gave away as the men both used their weight to kick it open. They fell into the room expecting to find Lucia huddled in the corner. West ran to the window and looked out and couldn't believe what he saw.

Jones squeezed into the window and looked out. "She's fucken crazy!"

Lucia rounded the corner. The nearest window was only a few feet away. She got to it and peeked in time to see the door on the other side of the room swing wide open. Lucia scooted as fast as she could to the other side of the window. It opened up and an arm reached out and barely touched her leg. She screamed and moved on to the next window in a hurry. She reached down to lift the window open, only to discover that it was locked. She kicked her leg out to see if she could break the glass but couldn't get herself in a good position to do it. Even so, she'd risk cutting herself.

The window opened up and someone poked their head out. Lucia screamed.

It was Jim.

"What the fuck is going on?" He helped her climb into the room. Lucia was drenched from head to toe. "I heard screaming but my bloody door's locked!"

"There's no time. They're coming. You have to hide." Lucia said quickly.

Jim looked shocked. "Where's Selena and Hannah?"

"You can't help them," she said, "They'll kill you. You gotta hide."

"That's fucken crazy! I'm not just gonna save myself-"

"You can't take them all on!" Lucia could hear the soldiers coming down the hall. "Please hide, come back when it's safe! If you stay now, they'll kill you and no one will be around to stop them!"

Jim protested again. There was a bang at the door.

She looked at him pleadingly. "Please, just get out now while you can. I'll distract them."

* * *

When the door finally gave away, the two soldiers rushed into the room. Lucia stood next to the window preparing to crawl out on the ledge. The lightening flickered and the thunder roared. West flew across the room and wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her inside. He was much stronger than she expected but she wouldn't be taken so easily.

Screaming, Lucia bent her knees to make herself heavier, forcing West to lower her closer to the ground. She suddenly kicked out against the floor, almost slipping completely out of the Major's grip. Jones rushed over to help and locked her arms behind her back, rendering them temporarily useless.

West released his grip on her. "Take her to the other room."

Jones strained to keep his grip on her. "Yes sir."

West turned back to the room as Jones dragged Lucia out. Jim was no where in sight. He glanced around every corner of the room then peeked out of the window expecting to see him holding onto the ledge or scaling the wall, but there was no one. He checked the closet and under the bed whose mangled sheets told them that the other man had recently been there.

There was a loud thunk against the wall down the hall. Jones swore and grunted then Lucia grunted and there was another thud.

First things first.

West hurried into the hallway. Lucia had her feet braced up against the wall and was using them to slam Jones back into the opposite wall. She glanced up as West started coming towards them and jerked her soaking wet body around hard enough to slip out of Jones grip. But he managed to get a hold on her again long enough for West arrive and help. Together they carried her into a nearby bedroom and shut the door.

Meanwhile back inside Jim's quarters, the heavy curtains next to the window pulled back a pinch when Lucia's screams faded. The room was clear and the door was wide open. Jim emerged from his hiding place and eased over to the doorway. He peeked around the corner and listened carefully. He could hear Lucia screaming at the top of her lungs to be released. Jim sighed heavily and made his way down the hallway and around the corner. A painful cry from a nearby room made him stop.

"Leave her alone!" Selena shrieked from behind the door.

Jim's brow furrowed and grabbed the door knob. Lucia screamed again. He knew that the couldn't take them all on, but he couldn't just leave the women at their mercy.

"Oi!"

Sergeant Farrell stood between Jim and the exit, his weapon at his side. Jim braced himself to run and took a few steps back.

"Wait." The Scottish man looked around eagerly to see if anyone was around. Then he said quietly. "Run."

Jim tilted his head slightly in confusion.

The Sergeant moved to the side and motioned his head toward the staircase. "Go. There's no time. Go now!"

"Help me save them," Jim pointed to the door. "You have a gun. Help them."

"There's no time," the Sergeant refused. "Go!"

Jim gave the door that separated him and his friends one last longing look and hurried pasted the sympathetic soldier. They exchanged glances before Jim ran into the foyer and to the front doors.

"I'll be back."

Sergeant Farrell swallowed hard. Maybe he could burst in and spray the room full of bullets without hitting the girls or sneak in and take them out with a knife.

"How the bloody hell did he get outside!" West stormed into the hallway with Jones trailing behind them. "Jim's out front in the taxi. Come on."

The three men hurried downstairs and outside.

The ground was slick and soft but the soldiers never broke stride as they climbed into the jeep. Jim was already near the wall separating the outside from the mansion property in the black taxi. He picked up speed and rammed the locked gates, breaking them apart, leaving them barely hanging onto the hinges. The army jeep was right behind him. He peeked into the rear view mirror and saw a few hands sticking out of the window holding shiny weapons.

A few pings bounced off of the back of the taxi. Jim ducked his head down and swerved the car back and forth. His right side mirror shattered. He slowed to make a quick turn and stepped on the gas. The main road was straight ahead. The jeep disappeared for a few moments then was right on his tail again. Jim hit the street and hurried toward the abandoned blockade. Bullets whizzed passed his head. He zig-zagged across the street to avoid the obstacles and continued down the highway. When he looked in the rear view mirror again, the jeep was no where in sight.

* * *

"Fuck! He got away!" Jones hit the side of the jeep with his fist.

"Don't worry about it," West said, straining his neck to watch the fleeing taxi grow smaller in the distance. "He's dead out there anyway. Farrell, let's get back to the mansion and patch up that gate before any Infected get in. We'll reinforce it first thing in the morning."

"Yes, sir." Farrell turned the jeep around and headed back home.

To Be Continued... (no really I have chapters lined up for this one!)


	3. By Force

30 Days After by Lastlegolife

Chapter 3: By Force

The skies were cluttered with sparse milky clouds as the preceding sun rays crept over the horizon. The dew forming rapidly on the trees over head tread downward toward the tips of the leaves and fell into the puddles of water below. The air was moist and overpowered by the scent of mud and mulch.

Major Henry West slouched back in his favorite chair on the patio. Despite the chill in the morning air, he didn't bother to put on a shirt or grab his green camouflage jacket on his way out of the bedroom. He sat up momentarily to fish a cigarette and lighter from his pants pocket. After setting it ablaze, he put the lighter away and slouched again. His dog tags jiggled slightly as he took a long swig and then held it loosely between his index and middle finger.

A set of slow and heavy footsteps came up behind him and stopped just out of his sight. West didn't bother to look up nor did he care who it was.

"How was it?"

The heavy footsteps came a little closer and stopped just a few feet within his peripheral vision. Corporal Mitchell raised a lighter up to the cigarette already sitting in his mouth, using his other hand to protect the flame from a sudden breeze. His attire was identical to his superior officer, except he wasn't too proud to wear a jacket.

"Swell, sir." He put the lighter away and tossed a puff of smoke into the air. "Sweet as sugar."

He surveyed the lush green land mine-filled lawn and, for the first time since he and his comrades had come to live in the mansion, everything was beautiful.

"The girl started bleeding a lot." He finally admitted.

"And?" West said in a tone that almost made Mitchell regret bringing it up.

"She's fine." The officer threw out his palm for emphasis but West didn't see it. "It stopped."

The Major's chest rose and fell sharply. "Lock her in another room just for tonight. If she or any of them are hurt internally then there's nothing we can do." He turned his head slightly in the corporal's direction. "Clear?"

"Yes sir," was all he could reply.

"Let them sleep for another hour then get them cleaned up for breakfast."

"Yes sir." Mitchell finished his cigarette and disappeared back into the large mansion.

* * *

Lucia sat with her back against the head board with her legs drawn up almost all the way up to her chest. She stared blankly around the room as her mind wandered to no one thought in particular. She spotted her bra crumpled on the floor beneath a chair across the room. A green camouflage jacket had been throw carelessly around it.

She had been robbed of her innocence.

A few swift knocks at the door startled her with surprise. The covers had all been dragged off the side of the bed leaving Lucia with on a thin sheet to cover her nakedness. The door open a moment later and Sergeant Farrell poked his head in to see if it was alright before entering. He was followed by Private Clifton who carried a gun in one hand and a robe and towel in the other.

Embarrassed, Lucia tightened her jaw and averted her gaze across the room.

"Well good morning to you too, princess." Clifton tossed the robe on the bed next to her. "Bath time, sweet-cheeks."

_So they're going to watch?_

She looked at the robe then at them, waiting. The Sergeant didn't need to be told. He turned his back to her, keeping his head turn away from her location. Clifton cut his eyes over to his partner and sneered.

"Private!" The Sergeant glanced over at him with threatening eyes. Clifton sighed and reluctantly turned his back to Lucia.

Lucia quickly removed the sheet and threw the garment around her shoulders. She slipped off the opposite side of the bed and stood to tie her belt.

"Are you done yet?" Clifton asked impatiently.

"Yes." She folded her arms across her chest.

"Hope you have a change of clothes with you." Sergeant Farrell warned. "Breakfast will be on soon."

Lucia and her armed escorted traveled through a series of halls and passed several rooms. Sergeant Farrell lead the way silently while Private Clifton took up the rear, occasionally smacking his lips and fantasizing about the cigarette he was going to have after breakfast. Finally they came to a washroom. There were sounds of running water and faint voices coming from the other side. Sergeant Farrell knocked lightly, then stepped aside to allow Lucia to enter the room by herself. She slipped inside and pulled the door shut behind her.

"How was she?" Clifton asked, sitting in one of the two chairs placed nearby.

"What are you going on about?" The Sergeant answered half-heartedly.

"Her," Clifton jerked his head in the direction Lucia had gone, "I'm not usually into the big ones but I might give her a try. She worth it?"

The Sergeant sat down and removed his gun strap from his shoulder and set the weapon the floor next to him. "I was standing guard last night."

The younger man slouched back in his chair. "Ah, the O.C. put you on guard duty eh?"

Farrell shook his head. "The man escaped last night and damaged the gate on his way out. I volunteered to stay on watch."

Clifton totally disregarded the part about Jim. "We haven't shagged in weeks, a fresh trollop comes along and you pass it up?"

"Watch your mouth Private," Farrell was through talking.

* * *

The wash room was much smaller than Lucia anticipated. It was less than half the size of her bedroom. Except for a few feet around the door, the floor was made entirely out of white porcelain. Huddled under the running water of a large metal showerhead stood Selena and Hannah who were staring up at her fearfully as she entered. They breathed a sigh of relief when they realized who it was.

"Lucia!" Hannah jumped up and ran to the other woman with her arms out stretched. She buried her face in the softness of her robe and began to sob. "They- they-"

She couldn't get the words out and started to sob.

Selena rose to her feet, on the verge of breaking into tears herself. "I can't believe this fucken happened."

"I know," Lucia held the fifteen-year old close as she wept. "I managed to get to Jim."

Selena looked hopeful. "Jim? Is he alright?"

"I think he escaped. He promised to come back for us."

"So he's alive then?"

Lucia shrugged. "As far as I know."

"Fuck," Selena swore, lowered her head, and sobbed. "I don't know how the fuck– what are we going to do?"

"There going to kill us aren't they?" Hannah sniffled.

Lucia shook her head causing the tears that had been dancing on her eyelids to shake free. "No sweety. They're not."

"How do _you_ know that?" Selena said with a raised voice. She paused then began to weep again. "Jim."

Lucia wiped the tears from her cheek. "If they meant to kill us they would have done it by now. I doubt they would waste water on us, let alone food. Besides, its obvious we have something they want."

"Yeah, a vagina," Selena answered sourly.

There was a knock on the door that made their hearts jump into their throats. All eyes were glued to the wooden door.

"Ten minutes ladies," came Clifton's voice.

The women sighed with relief.

Lucia released Hannah and stripped out of her robe. She and the two other women stood beneath the showerhead. The room was already stocked with wash rags and bars of soap. They lathered it all over their bodies, trying to wash away the smell and the touch of sin but it they'd been saturated in it. No matter how hard they scrubbed their skin, they could still feel the pressure holding their wrists together and the constant tugs at their legs. The hands that groped them were still there, fondling and pinching. It wouldn't stop.

They dried themselves off quickly and tossed on the clothes they had brought in with them. By the time the door open they were smoothing out their wet hair the best way they could. Clifton inhaled the steamy fresh smell of the room and sighed with a smile on his face. He instructed them to leave their belongings behind and ushered them to the dining room.

"Hannah, don't say anything," Selena whispered to the young girl. "Don't give them the satisfaction."

Swallowing hard, Hannah nodded.

* * *

Sun rays from the outside poured in through the windows and lit the dining room where Jones, donned in his pink uniform, took his time setting the places. He was feeling too good to rush. Private Davis and Bell were already seated towards the end of the long table, mumbling amongst each other and swearing each time they accidently brought themselves more pain. Mitchell and Bedford entered the room nosily announcing that they were feeling "fucking good" and they wanted some "fucking food."

Mitchell was first to notice Davis's bandage. "What happened to you?"

"Fell out of bed?" Bedford chuckled, taking a seat next to Mitchell.

Davis tried to speak out of the uninjured side of his face. "That loony American-bitch shanked us like a couple of pigs."

"What American bitch?"

"And she got all of you?" Bedford was still chuckling.

"It's not funny!" Bell snapped which only made his partner laugh a little louder.

"That other girl's a Yank eh?" Mitchell asked.

"And a wild one at that!" Jones jumped in. "The O.C. and I gave her a seeing to last night."

"So you didn't get any mate?" He laughed.

"Fuck you Mitch." They grumbled.

The dining room door opened and Sargent Farrell came in first followed by the three exhausted women and Clifton.

"Goooood morning ladies!" Mitchell ignited cheers all around the room.

The women kept their eyes fixed downward as they took their seats at the table. Hannah was already blinking moisture out of her eyes, her face flushed bright red. The tension was likely to drive them all to tears soon. It was nearly unbearable. Lucia clenched her jaw tight, refusing to show any sign of weakness to these pricks. She felt the sting of tears biting at her eyes and swallowed a hard lump in her throat. She tried to concentrate on something to block the memory of last night from her mind. Her eyes settled on a small carving knife left on a nearby counter top the night before.

Selena rubbed Hannah's back in an attempt to comfort her.

"Bastards!" She said acidly.

"Oh come on, it wasn't _that_ bad." Mitchell laughed. "As a matter of fact, you fuckin' loved it!"

He ran his tongue in between his fingers at her suggestively.

"Go fuck yourself!" She spat.

The soldiers laughed and hooted obscenities in response.

"That's enough!" Sergeant Farrell snapped. "In your seats, all of you!"

The men did as they were told with merciless grins splashed across their faces. A moment or two later, Major West and Davis arrived at the table and took their places. Jones leapt up and began serving breakfast which was pretty much the same as dinner except this time with canned fruit instead of vegetables. Lucia again wondered just how much food actually was left in the mansion. Such a large dwelling was sure to have more than just these few canned goods laying around.

While the majority of the room dove into their plates like a pack of ravenous wolves, the three young women sat idly across from them with their eyes lowered to the cherry wood table. They listened to the bounderish sounds of the soldiers who seemed unnerved by the tension stirring nearby.

"What the fuck, Jones," Bedford said. "There's a goddamn hair in my peaches."

"Doris likes hairy peaches, don't you sweetheart?" Bedford shoved a chunk of ham into his mouth.

A round of giggles circled the table.

Selena was the first to realize that this uncomfortable silence was pointless and futile. For their own sake it would be wise to take advantage of this time to replenish themselves. There was no telling what their captors had in store for them today. She only wished that they would leave Hannah out of it.

"Come on Hannah, eat," Selena whispered to her quietly. "You'll need your strength."

She picked up her fork and forced down a piece of ham.

"She's right Hannah," Major West agreed. "There's a lot of work to be done today."

Lucia cut her eyes over to the Major sharply as if offended. She didn't like the sound of that. He glanced at her and she immediately rolled her eyes away from him and tightened her jaw self-consciously in anger. A sharp pain throbbed around the base of her neck. She rubbed it instinctively and recalled the evening before when one of the aggressors got carried away in the moment and gave her a vampiric bite as he began to ravage her. The teeth marks left behind were barely visible, but the rose colored flesh under her dark hair shown clearly from across the room where the Major was sitting.

"Why don't you tell us how you got here Lucia?" West asked her, drawing half the attention of the table in her direction.

Another annoying wave of embarrassment flushed over her but she held her head high, determined to not let them turn her into a blubbering mess. After a long night of forced intercourse, being in their very presence outraged her. A part of her wanted to block out the memory and continue as if everything were okay, but her anger was not so forgiving and it was clear they didn't intend to let her forget it..

"Got lost following the yellow brick road," Her bitter American accent drew more attention from around the room.

"I knew it," Bell commented after a moment. "She's a complete nutter."

"I like my women with a sense of humor!" Clifton grinned, being one of the few in the room who actually caught the irony.

Lucia glanced around the table without making eye contact with anyone.

"So what's a Yankee-Doodle Dandy doing way out here anyway?" Bedford slurped the fruit juice from his spoon. "Are you a student?"

"Sky-diving," she said drily.

"You're a terrible liar."

"Better be careful man," Jones said. "Or she'll stick you too."

Bedford smirked. "I'll _stick _her."

"Settle down," The Major warned. "Well it appears our guests aren't hungry," He turned to Mitchell and Clifton. "See that the ladies get started on their chores."

The men nodded and rose from their seats.

Corporal Mitchell pointed his weapon at the women. "Alright ladies, you heard the man. On your feet."

Selena rose from her seat, taking Hannah by her shoulders and ushering her to the door. Lucia followed closely behind them.

"Hold on a minute!" West tossed his napkin down on the table and approached them.

He stopped in front of the unruly foreigner and held out his hand. Lucia glanced down at it briefly then glared back at him with narrowed eyes. The rest of the room watched dumbfounded as the dark-skinned girl produced a small carving knife from her waistband and gently placed the wooden handle in the Major's palm.

"Sneaky bitch," Mitchell muttered. He took Lucia by her forearm and led her out of the room with the rest of the group.

"That one's likely to be trouble I think," Davis carefully bit into his food and used his tongue to direct the chewy morsels over the right side of his mouth.

The Major interrupted before he could speak anymore about it.

"Only if you allow her outsmart you again." He said sternly and returned to his place at the head

of the table. "We can expect resistance but they'll all adapt eventually, just as we have."

Sergeant Farrell stared at his commanding officer with disagreement reading on his face. However he said nothing and returned to his plate.

* * *

Led at gunpoint, the women were taken to the main hall at the front of the house where Mitchell explained the details of their chores for the day. "I don't care if you have to use the shirts of your backs, I want these floors clean enough for me to eat you on."

Only Clifton found his dirty humor amusing. Of course it was all meant to keep appearances. Moments after the women started straightening up the first room, Private Jones supplied them with a bucket of water, clean rags, cleansers, and a broom. With no other choice they got to work dusting off shelves of books, polishing the wood, shining the brass, and shaking out the rug. Their guards leaned casually against the wall staring at their bums whenever they bent over and admired their graceful movements as they worked in perfect sync like honey bees.

The mansion hadn't been cleaned since the owners fell victim to the Infected several weeks earlier. In the meat time, things had gotten shifted out of order once the soldiers settled in. They _were _men after all and the house was in dire need of a woman's touch. The soldiers unanimously agreed that only a woman possessed the instincts to keep a clean house in orderly shape. It's simple genetics that couldn't be helped.

Lucia swiped at the dust on the heavy velvet curtains, her mind working fiercely on an escape plan. She was angry. And unbeknownst to her captors, cleaning was the usual outlet she used to calm her nerves... or inflame them. Cleaning up after these pigs didn't weaken her resistance as it was intended to. It merely allowed her time to think.

By the time the drawing room was cleaned, Private Jones reappeared with more work ready for the three women. The kitchen was in need of the most attention. The walls were covered with dirt and cobwebs. The soldiers had used it as cooking area and a makeshift laundry room. They often hung their damp clothes across a line they'd fastened to the walls. The cabinets near the floor and above their heads were brown with grit and grease. The old fashioned brick stove to the right side of the room was surrounded with a blackened halo of soot. Atop it sat cookware that looked that it hadn't seen water in weeks. The floor, having never been swept that month, carried a thin layer of sand and mud in some places. Soiled dishes from breakfast and dinner cluttered the sink. The groceries that had been seized from Frank's cab were scattered about the kitchen table.

"Are you fucking serious?" Selena was angry.

"That's right sweetheart," Clifton grinned and raised the barrel of his gun.

Lucia turned to the Corporal, ignoring the hunger pains flaring up in her stomach. "Can we go to the bathroom first?"

"What's this? The Yank's got to tinkle? Can we all go together?" Mitchell replied in a mocking tone. He signaled Clifton to take up the job as escort. "One at the time. The rest of you get to work."

She turned toward the exit but her path was blocked by the Corporal.

"You wouldn't be hiding any knives on you wouldja?" He used his free hand to grope around the hem of her pants and smacked her rump.

"Asshole!" Lucia shoved him away and put a few steps in between them.

"Just for that," he smiled sinisterly. "You go last."

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

The next stop was the library. Though it was unlikely they would be finished by suppertime, there was always tomorrow as far as the soldiers were concerned. Dusty old shelves lined every wall. In the center of the grand room sat several floral colored couches with matching end tables and lamps all facing an underused fireplace at the far wall. Priceless trinkets, oil paintings and family keepsakes decorated the room.

Selena busied herself with shining the glass and silver while Hannah polished the wooden furniture. Lucia was stuck with beating the dust from the bookshelves and the drapes with a rag. The airborne particles stung her eyes and tickled her throat. Private Clifton, their sole guard, phased out her gripes and grumbling and kept his vision fixated on the African goddess before him. His face read of the many impure thoughts flowing through his imagination. Selena did her best to ignore him and focused on her work but he enjoyed her uneasy behavior all the more.

Voices in the hallway caught their attention as Sergeant Farrell and Corporal Mitchell passed by.

"Want me to get it?" Mitchell asked.

"Nah I can find it. I'll be right back." The Sergeant's footsteps disappeared down the hall as Mitchell strolled up to the door and peeked into the library. He scanned over each of the women who ignored his presence and then casually strolled up to Clifton.

"Got any smokes, man?" He asked him.

Clifton dug into his pocket and produced a pack.

"Bedford keeps borrowing mine and fucken Doris is stealing his," Mitchell complained and stuffed five cigarettes into his pocket.

"How's it going out there?" Clifton asked him.

"The fucken gates bent to hell. It's probably going to take more than a day to repair it with the tools we have here," he swore. "That fucken escapee has been hanging around too."

"Who? Jim?"

_Jim._

"Whatever the fuck his name is. He's taken stuff from the blockade," Mitchell leaned his shoulder against the wall. "We're not positive but it's gotta be him. Jones and Davis are down there on lookout now."

The sudden hush that fell over the room interrupted their conversation. The soldiers looked up at the woman who had paused in the middle of their chores to listen in.

"Don't get excited. Get back to work!" He ordered. His eyes landed on Selena who was the closest to them. "Especially you darling. You know what happens when you get excited."

She glared at him. "Fuck off."

Mitchell smirked and walked toward her slowly. "Oh yeah? You want it again? So Soon?"

Realizing what she had just provoked, Selena became fearful and backed away from him but he was quick to grab her. He laughed viciously and gyrated his hips against her pelvis as she struggled fiercely to free herself.

Hannah appeared behind them and struck Mitchell in the back of his knee. The sudden jolt nearly made him loose his balance. Raging with anger he backhanded the young girl to the floor. Seeing Hannah take a blow filled the African goddess with a hateful rage. She lurched at Mitchell with claws at the ready but Clifton was quick to stop her.

"Still got some fight left in you eh?" Mitchell mocked.

Before Clifton could speak up Lucia had a handful of the Corporals hair and pulled back as hard as she could.

"You fucking bitch!" He released Selena and turned on his attacker.

Sergeant Farrell rushed into the library and pulled the feisty American back ultimately freeing the other officer. Infuriated, Mitchell turned his gun on her while spewing offensive slurs. Though the barrel of his weapon sat only inches from her face, Lucia never flinched. With one flick of her free hand she swatted the gun away and launched a loogie at his face. Farrell quickly threw himself in between them before Mitchell could react. The enraged Corporal tried to push past him but the Scottish man was stronger.

Lucia helped Hannah to her feet and stood back.

"Soldier!" Farrell slammed him into the wall. "Calm the fuck down or I'll take the torch to you instead!"

Mitchell growled in his throat and stared daggers at Lucia.

"Mitchell!" Farrell shouted. The Corporal finally met his eyes. "Is that clear?"

"Yes sir," he said finally and relaxed.

The Sergeant released him and sent him outside to work on the gate. Once the other officers was out of sight, Farrell turned to the three women. "Keep pulling stunts like that and you won't last long."

Lucia watched him sympathetically. "Neither will you."

He left without a reply and everyone went back to work.


	4. House Rules

30 Days After by Lastlegolife

Chapter 4: House Rules

Three days in Hell can feel like eternity under the right conditions. The three captives were inevitably forced into the role of indentured servants. In the morning hours they picked up the dining room after breakfast and washed the dishes in the kitchen. Afterward, the fetched soiled linens from their beds upstairs and replaced them with fresh sheets then they were sent to a random room in the mansion to tidy up.

Although they'd already expressed their lack of cooking abilities, the Major insisted that they try. Selena and Lucia joined forces to sabotage supper and prevent themselves from being given yet another undesired chore. They blackened vegetables, overboiled the rice, and laced the edible parts with salt and white vinegar. Lucia managed to start a fire on the stove top and backed away sheepishly. The pretty Private soon became frustrated with the disasters and resumed his duties as the official household tin-opener.

In fear that food would soon become scarce, the meals were reduced to a late breakfast and dinner. In between meals the soldiers gorged on various snacks and drank tea in the afternoons. During the day the Sergeant or the Corporal took two other men with them to sit at the blockade for hours at a time in case more survivors showed up. In light of Lucia's tricks, the women were never left alone and escorted everywhere they went. One or two men were always present to watch over them while they worked. All silverware was accounted for after every meal and they weren't allowed outside unless it was necessary.

When the time came to turn in for the night the ladies were separated into separate rooms located within the upper east hall. Lucia's bedroom window was especially sealed shut to prevent the likelihood of anymore late-night stunts on the ledge. Mitchell threatened to keep her locked up in a broom closet if she ever tried to escape like that again. She believed him and thought it best to obey to at least that much. When the final perimeter checks were complete and the house was closed for the night, the men wandered into the east hall and picked their room of choice.

The Sergeant always volunteered to stay on watch.

* * *

Balancing an armload of fresh linens on one knee, Lucia pushed opened the bedroom door and headed inside. A gentlemen would have done the task for her, but she didn't expect to receive any such help from the likes of a watch dog. Private Bedford stayed in the hallway to think about his next cigar, occasionally peeking inside the room to see her progress. Lucia paid him little mind as she tidied up the bed. She saw little point in making it too neat since it was so close to the evening.

Private Davis, a regular among her sheets, determined that "Loo-cee-uh" was too much of a mouthful for his sore jaws and declared that she needed a nickname. Clifton suggested Dorothy but someone argued it was too close to Doris. Another suggested Yankee-bitch and after a good laugh removed it from the ballot. Finally Jones, another one of her regulars, offered the most simplest of options: Lucy. And so it stuck.

Lucia heard the creek of the bedroom door closing behind her and glanced back. Her blood turned cold at the sight of Corporal Mitchell staring back at her with eyes that plainly outlined his intentions. He secured the latch behind his back and stepped forward. His lips spelled out revenge as he reached for her. She threw her arms out to shove him back but he slapped them away and backhanded her into the wall. Before she could react his hands were wrapped around her throat.

"You think you can make a fool outta me?!" His face was mere centimeters from hers. "You think you're funny, do ya?" Lucia gaged in response, her eyes beginning to tear. She clawed at his fingers. "I'm gonna give you something to laugh about bitch!"

_Don't leave any marks_. That was the order.

Mitchell tossed her into the dresser across the room. She hit the glass mirror cracking it in multiple places. Costume jewelry, dolls and miscellaneous trinkets crashed to the floor. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her to the center of the room. He yanked her face up to him to glare into her eyes. Though she couldn't see much, instinct guided her knee to his groin with determined grunt.

Mitchell cried out in pain and loosen his grip on her hair enough for her to yank free. She clawed at his face, screaming at the top of her lungs in feeble desperation. Surely this wasn't the sort of discipline the Major had in mind for them. If only someone would come... someone... anyone!

The hot-blooded soldier seized one of her flailing arms, his eyes burning with anger.

"No!" She cried and tried to pull away from his iron grip. She quickly raised her free arm across her face just as he hurled at fist at her head. The blocked blow sent her falling backwards onto the floor. Dazed and out of breath, Lucia curled up and used her arms to shield her head from the next blows that were sure to come.

Neither of them noticed when the door flew open.

Sergeant Farrell dropped the satchel in his hand and leapt across the room to the other soldier who violently kicked at the captive woman groveling beneath him.

"Mitchell!" He threw his weight into the younger man and pushed him into the opposite wall.

Lucia painfully crawled away from them which threw her attacker into a frenzy. The two men struggled exchanging blows. Finally, the Sergeant got a hold of his rifle and pressed it into the Corporal's belly. Blood splattered the wall as three gun shots rang through the house.

Mitchell stared at the other man wide-eyed and reached down to cradle his wounds. The Sergeant backed away from him and he sank to the floor, streaking more blood onto the wall. He swore something under his breath and looked at Lucia who was curled up on the floor next to the bed. Within seconds he went limp and didn't move anymore. Lifeless eyes stared at the floor, his blood drenched hands still clutching his stomach.

"Are you alright?" The Scottish man asked the bruised girl.

Lucia finally tore her eyes away from Mitchell and nodded.

Heavy footsteps ascended the stairs rapidly.

Farrell picked up the small satchel he'd dropped earlier and quickly handed it to her. "Here, don't let them have it. Use it to escape."

Lucia nodded and held the bag close.

A parade of soldiers, except for Davis who remained downstairs with the other captives, rushed into the room with their weapons ready.

"What the bloody hell!" Bell gasped.

"Fuck!" Bedford ran his hands through his hair nervously.

Clifton spit out the toothpick he was chewing on. "He's killed Mitch!"

Major West pushed his way to the front of the group. He glanced from the dead ruffian soldier to the woman curled up on the floor and up to his subordinate. The disheveled room and the crimson smear of blood dripping down her arm said it all. There was no need to explain the conflicts that had taken place. Everyone glared at the Sergeant accusingly whom stood off to the side.

West yanked the weapon from Farrell's hands. "Jones." The young Private stepped forward. "Take care of Lucy. Bedford and Clifton will escort the Sergeant downstairs and help Bell clean up this mess. Go!"

The two assigned men seized the fallen soldier by his arms and dragged him out of the room. Jones went over to Lucia and helped her to her feet. Their minds set on situation at hand, the men took no notice of the satchel in her hands. She clutched it tightly to her chest and let the young Private lead her away.

After watching them go Major West took one last lingering look at the deceased Corporal. Mitchell was a hot headed asshole but he got the job done. However this mistake would cost everyone two irreplaceable officers. To maintain order and respect, the Sergeant would have to be executed.


	5. Negotiations

30 Days After by Lastlegolife

Chapter 5: Negotiations

The mood around the house was tense since Mitchell's murder. Conversation at the dinner table circulated around the fallen Sergeant and their late friend. It was the first major blow to men's morale since Private Mailer became infected a week ago. Seeing their numbers dwindle so rapidly brought on new found thoughts of extinction and suicide. Major West quickly reminded them that unlike the past, they now had the solution to Infection living under their own roof. But not even the warmth of a woman could null these ill feelings. They'd get over it of course, but words weren't going to mean much as long as random deaths occurred every week. The men needed physical proof that they could return civilization back to its rightful place the world.

The following afternoon, Private Bell escorted Lucia to the drawing room where Major West was waiting to see her alone. Lucia's minor cuts had been cleaned and patched up by the sympathetic pretty private. He provided her with an adult dosage of pain killers and antibiotics before sending her on her way. She managed to smuggle the satchel into the basement and stuffed it behind the washing machine while no one was looking. The bag contained several bottles of Valium, aspirins, energy boosters, and vitamins taken from Selena's private stash that she'd brought along with her from London. Lucia wasn't quite sure what plan the Scottish man had in mind. She only wished he'd made a move to help them sooner.

Now the man in charge wanted to speak to her alone. She expected this meeting to either be an interrogation or an afternoon booty call.

The Major stood in the center of the room watching her carefully. "There's an annual jazz festival in Upton next week. I used to take my mum to it every year."

"Are you looking for a date?" Her voice was calm but her tone was sarcastic.

"If you're free that day."

"Then free me." The Major smiled but Lucia was serious. "Is that why you called me in here?"

"No. I want to discuss your future. You're feeling better I trust?" West poured her a drink and handed her the glass. He didn't wait for her reply. "The very first night your party arrived, I knew there was something special about all of you." He walked to the window slowly with his hands behind his back. "You all survived the apocalypse with nothing more than your own instincts to guide you. What baffles me is how a foreigner made it all this way alone."

Lucia swirled the contents of her glass slowly in thought but did not drink.

"It's been on my mind a lot recently. And then I realized that I have two dead officers, and two men injured... and you've had a part in every incident."

He circled the room and stood in front of her, staring into her eyes. She only glared back at him with that silent judging expression of hers.

"And yet when I look at you all I see is the same shy little virgin I met just a few days ago." She blinked at the mention of that life-altering night when he stole away her innocence. Perhaps he was to blame for creating the monster she'd become. Or maybe surviving Infection awakened a part of her even she didn't know about. Either way, something had to be done. "We've all had to make sacrifices in order to survive, even if it meant killing our friends to get here. I wonder whose life you took to make this far?"

Lucia's hesitation to speak correctly confirmed his suspicions. "What are you getting at?"

"I'm going to make a few changes. In exchange for your good behavior, my men will not be allowed to harm you in any way. No more late night visits," he promised. "And so as to be sure, I'm going to keep an eye on you, and move you into my quarters."

Her brow wrinkled and her lip twitched with uncertainty. "Move into your room? ...with you?"

West towered a good six inches over her. He took the forgotten glass away from her. "Yes. Just you and me."

Lucia felt her blood pressure rise a few notches. Why her? What else was there to prove? The fact that he wanted her at all she found comical. Back home she could barely get a guy to flirt with her, much less present her with the status of an official lover. However, he was offering her an advantage that she couldn't refuse... if the option even existed.

"I'll only agree to that on one condition." She moved to the arm of the couch. "If you agree to keep your men away from Hannah too."

"No," he replied. "That wouldn't be fair them."

He sounded as if she'd asked him to take candy from toddlers. Lucia rolled her eyes skyward a resisted the urge to snap at him."Fine, then let them have me and give Hannah immunity. She's just a child."

"That defeats the purpose of the arrangement," He swallowed the liquor in a single gulp and set the glass down as if it were a gavel. "It's done."

Lucia clenched her jaw in frustration. "What if... what if I... prepared the meals?"

For some reason he had a soft spot for the Yankee woman no matter how much trouble she'd become. He turned to face her, somewhat impressed by her determination, but he was stern with his response. "No, we already tried that."

"I know, I know. I did it on purpose... I can cook _a little_ but I'm no expert." She sighed heavily and massaged her brow as though she couldn't believe that she was speaking the words. "If you give Hannah immunity, I'll do whatever you want... be a good girl, cook every night -with help of course- anything you want."

If this meeting wasn't open for negotiations it wouldn't have never taken place. The sole effort to keep the conversation confidential made Lucia wonder if there was a reason behind his proposal. But what? Bargaining with him left a nasty taste in her mouth, but Lucia didn't think she could bear watching the soldiers torment that little girl anymore. Selena would agree that the sacrifice was for the greater good.

Major West closed the gap between them and towered over her uncomfortably close. He gazed into her amber eyes searching for a hint of deception but all he found was sincerity. Her lip twitched nervously which suggested to him the level of her vulnerability, something he unexplainably found attractive in her. Why fight it? After a moment she dropped her eyes away from him in submission.

"Done."

* * *

The women were charged with completing the finishing touches to the mess upstairs.

Jones and Davis supervised while Hannah and Selena scrubbed the blood from the walls. Clifton, the newly appointed second-in-commnad, left the mansion earlier with Bedford to dispose of Mitchell's corpse, execute the former Sergeant, and man the abandoned blockade for a while. They peeled flesh chunks from the furniture and soaked up as much blood as they could with old rags, household cleaners, and warm water. The stains would remain but the smell would eventually go away.

Selena folded up the bed sheets and took down the drapes then set them aside to be cleaned. They took out the mattress and pillows and moved them to an empty room. The soldiers were gracious enough to help them with that. Major Henry West approached them in the hall with Lucia and Private Bell in tow. The men stood at attention.

"Jones, take Hannah with you to the kitchen and help Lucia prepare our supper for tonight." He ordered. "The rest of you finish up here."

Jones nodded and started down the hall. "Let's go ladies."

Hannah dropped her soiled rag in the bucket and headed out of the room.

"What's going on?" She whispered to Lucia.

"Don't worry, you're going to be alright now." She rubbed her shoulders in assurance.

Selena exchanged glances with Lucia in confusion. The other girl only nodded to her and followed Jones downstairs. Major West stayed behind to issue new orders.

Lucia already had an idea in her head about what to make if the ingredients were available. The pantry door hadn't been opened in nearly two weeks. It was fully stocked with boxed noodles, bottled sauces, cooking oils, grains, dry spices, jarred fruit, and canned goods. But the pretty private could barely boil the water for tea and the others had too much pride to attempt to do anything better. So the pantry goods were locked away while the soldiers lived solely off cold canned veggies, dry cereal, and processed snacks.

_Idiots._

Jones watched in awe as Lucia made simple text book tasks look effortless. They were... to anyone with common sense. She boiled a large pot of rigatoni noodles on one burner and poured a jar of spaghetti sauce into another saucepan.

Hannah appeared, holding out a can of stewed tomatoes. "Is this it?"

Lucia nodded. "Cut those up into smaller pieces and put them in the sauce please."

Hannah went to the cutting table and did as she was told.

The aroma made Jones' mouth water. He stood by the stove and watched Lucia stir in a mix of dried spices and taste the results. She picked up a spare spoon, dipped it into the sauce, and held it up to his mouth.

"Taste," she said.

Jones opened his mouth eagerly and slurped it up. After a few seconds an enormous grin appeared on his face.

"Is it too spicy?"

He shook his head, savoring the flavor. "It's perfect. How'd you do that?"

Lucia cracked a half smile. "Practice."

Outside Clifton and Bedford pulled up in front of the mansion after returning from their clean-up duties. The tantalizing fumes caught their noses as soon as they set foot in the door. They followed the scent to the kitchen where the girls were plating the pasta with mixed vegetables.

"Holy shit!" Clifton gasped. His stomach rumbled within. "Is that what we're having tonight?"

"Hell yeah!" Bedford took in a deep breath.

"I know!" Jones giggled. "Tell everyone its supper time."

The two men left in hurry to alert the rest of the house.

After ten minutes of prep, the women finished up in the kitchen and wheeled the serving cart out toward the dining room of chanting, eagerly awaiting men. _Deja vu. _A wave of cheers rang across the room when the girls arrived. Selena was already present serving drinks.

"That's fucken _beautiful_!" Davis grinned at his food with glee. He grabbed Jones's head and pretended to give the Private a sloppy wet kiss. "Good job Doris."

"It was all Lucy," the pretty Private admitted.

"Ya fucken serious?"

All eyes fell to the American who would have blushed if the tone of her skin allowed it. As usual she tried to maintain her serious exterior as she laid down everyone's plate in front of them, but the humor in the situation read on her face.

"Bra-VO!" Bell cheered. "Pasta Puttanesca!"

"Sort of," Hannah mumbled.

"Indeed." Major West spoke up from the head of the table. He raised his cup to Lucia, the others did the same. "Gratifications are in order. Thank you for a job well done."

Lucia nodded and took her seat at the table. "You're welcome."

_I hope you all fucking choke!_

Everyone dug into their food, slurping down noodles and picking up sauce droplets from the table with their fingers. Those that finished, refilled their plates with the pot of leftovers sitting in the middle of the table. They savored every bite, muttering aloud about how good was.

"I thought Yankee women in this day and age didn't know how to cook?" Clifton said with stuffed jaws.

"Only the ignorant ones," Lucia sipped her water. "It's just a recipe I use whenever there's nothing else to eat."

"Trust Doris to know anything like that," Davis shoved another fork of food into his mouth.

"I'm no bloody chef! I just make it up as I go along," Jones said defensively. "And there was no recipe. She never even picked up a measuring cup."

"That's 'cause she knows what she's doing, ya bloody pansy. It's about time we get to taste a hot cooked meal again."

"It is long overdue." West agreed. "I can't imagine what you'll come up with tomorrow."

"We'll see," Lucia filled her mouth with noodles to keep from being asked another question.

It didn't work.

"Who taught you how to cook?"

_Asshole._

She swallowed her food. "Myself. It just takes practice and patience."

"Ah, perhaps some of that talent will rub off on our Jones," he replied.

"If he's willing to learn," She avoided eye contact and stirred the excess sauce around on her plate.

The mood was interrupted by a round of belches from across the table. The look of absolute disgust washed over Selena's face. She turned her nose up at the culprit and continued eating. The men giggled childishly and excused themselves.

Thankfully for Lucia, the soldiers immediately started up another conversation about other cuisines they've tasted and she was able to drift back into shadows once again.Her mind kept wandering back to her agreement with the Major. She couldn't help but feeling a bit of guilt for putting Selena in that position without consulting her first. But she did know that Selena wanted to find a way to protect what was left of Hannah's innocence for the time being. There was no telling how long they'd actually be at the mansion. Selena's hopes of rescue were growing smaller by the day. Somehow Lucia felt that there was still a chance, but wondered if she was just being naive in thinking so.

A mine exploded outside.

The soldiers snapped into action, this time, with Clifton shouting out commands. The men reluctantly left their plates and stormed to the front yard and took their positions. A swarm of Infected raced across the lawn screeching at the top of their diseased lungs. They tripped over wires triggering more hidden explosives around the yard.

The girls listened to the explosions and watched the table shake under the vibrations of the battle going on outside. West, once again, stayed behind to finish up the remains of his dinner.

"Ladies, clear the table please." He said politely.

The girls stood and began to pick up the leftover plates and glasses and carried them to the kitchen. West wiped his face with a napkin and followed them. He stood in the hallway between the two rooms keeping watch as they transferred the dirty dishes. Selena began to wash them in the sink and handed them over one at a time to Hannah who was already equipped with a dry towel. Lucia busied herself around the kitchen, putting things away and straightening up.

West only stood in the doorway with his arms folded thinking silently to himself about what lay ahead. It seemed that the survivors had another enemy... themselves. Farrell was always objective to his plans for the women but he didn't believe the soldier had it in him to kill his own comrade. Now with two men gone that left only five to protect the mansion and one to keep an eye on the ladies. With the right opportunity and proper motivation, the girls could take them all out or at least have a better chance at escape. Even though he had delivered the future he had promised, their small group was still dying slowly.

Eventually the time would come when they would have to drive back to the city and search for more supplies, especially if they wanted Lucia to cook everyday. It would be just as risky to take only a few men as it would be to leave a few behind especially with the women still being so aggressive.

Selena was unwilling but Lucia was just plain defiant. His men would argue that constant physical reinforcement was the easiest choice with fastest results. As right as they probably were, he refused the idea. He didn't want a house full of battered women limping around. It was also too easy to get carried away and cause another senseless death. Major West gave them all strict orders to use no more force then needed to keep the women under control.

He expected to see some sign of Stockholm syndrome by now, but evidently it was being delayed no doubt by Mitchell's temper and his constant tormenting of the American and her nationality. But then there was Hopefully with this change of pace and the unruly Corporal out of the picture, they'd see some progress. Only this time he'd see to it personally.

The Major suddenly realized that he'd left his weapon upstairs. By now it should have been quite obvious to the captives that the guns were just for show however it was best not to drop their guard too quick. Lucia, of course, took note of it right away. With the three of them working together they could take him down. However with no place to run and no useful weapon to overpower their remaining jailers, they'd be left at the mercy of five leaderless men unbounded by rules and a respectable authority figure.

So for now, Major West could live.

With everything clean and put away, it was time to send the women to their rooms for the night. Since the boys were still outside cleaning up the aftermath, West took it upon himself to do the work. He herded the ladies upstairs and locked Hannah and Selena in their separate rooms then guided Lucia to another part of the house where he and the other soldiers had taken up their quarters.

Of course, the man in charge had taken it upon himself to occupy the master bedroom. It was equipped with a fireplace and connecting office. In the far middle part of the room underneath several grand arched windows lay the largest bed Lucia had ever seen. The drapes, bed covers, and lace was all the color of burgundy, green and white. The furniture was custom made out of carved wood. The room smelled strongly of pine and cleansing polish. There was a set of glass sliding doors that led into a walk-in closest. Behind the door on the adjacent wall was a grand bathroom with a wide balcony.

Lucia took a seat on the decorative stool at the vanity table and examined the makeup kit on top of it. West watched her for a moment then picked up his gun that he had left sitting on top of a small desk. He walked over to one of the bedside tables and pulled out a smaller handgun from the drawer and put it in his pocket. He walked into the bathroom, fiddled with something, and came back out quickly. Lucia watched him through the vanity mirror and played absently with a tube of lipstick. He then waltzed over to her and unearthed another semi-automatic from one of the drawers and slipped it into his belt.

"I'll be back soon." He said and hurried out of the door.

The latched clicked and she was locked in.


	6. Lucia

**Writers Notes:** FB heading means that the following section is a flashback sequence in the story.F/B means that it's the end of the flashback.

30 Days After by Lastlegolife

Chapter 6: Lucia

Major West pushed the bedroom door open and waited outside for a moment. He expected a crazed American to jump at him from the darkness armed with a hat pin or a sharp pair of rusty scissors. Instead she was still sitting at the vanity table with her back to him concentrated on something in her hands. Confident, he sauntered into the room and closed the door softly behind him.

"I'd thought you'd be asleep by now," he said and went over to the large walk-in closet. She didn't bother to look up. He took off his jacket and hung them upon the rack. Tidiness, he considered, was just one of the baby steps towards civilization. He closed the closet door and approached her. "What are you up to?"

He peeked over her shoulder playfully. The contents of an expensive jewelry box he'd long since forgotten about were laid out on the table in front of her. Lucia was carefully trying on each of the rings though most of them didn't fit.

"This woman had very tiny hands," she commented, pulling a silver one off of her finger.

Major West smiled and sat on the bed and kicked off his boots. "You never told me how you came to the country Lucy."

Lucia slipped a different ring on her pinky finger and stared at it. "Yes I did."

"Smart ass. You know what I meant," He took off his shirt and hung it on the bed post. "Why are you keeping it a secret?"

"Why are you making it a big deal?" She shot back.

West noticed her white shoulder bag sitting on the bed next to him. He snatched it up and walked over the desk on the other side of the room and lit a few candles.

"Since you insist on being difficult," he plopped down in the chair and rummaged through the bag noisily to get a reaction out of her.

Lucia only glanced over her shoulder at him but said nothing. First he pulled out a small but fat coin purse. He opened it and found a large wad of American dollars and Euros. He flipped through it with his thumb and raised his eyebrows at the amount.

West tossed the bills on the desk and dug into the bag again. This time he pulled out a pair of dead cell phones and unearthed a handful of passports. His brow furrowed. Why in the world would she have so many? He opened them one at a time and glanced at the pictures. All of them were from the U.S.A., mostly young ladies except for one young man. The final one he opened up showed a picture of Lucia, however something didn't seem quite right.

"Waverley?" He glanced up at her. "Your name's Waverley Johnson?"

Her expression in the reflection in the mirror gave away the answer. "So?"

"And you're from California. You didn't tell us that," he leaned forward with interest. "You're a beach and bikini sort of girl aren't you?"

Lucia's eye twitched but she kept them fixed on the jewelry in front of her.

West set the passports aside and dug into the bag again. "Interesting."

Underneath a few articles of clothing, he pulled out a black leather wallet with two zipped up compartments. He opened it and found Lucia's drivers license, credit cards, and a college id, all marked with the name Waverley Johnson. After dissecting her wallet carefully, he tossed it over with the rest of her belongings and pulled out an envelope loaded with recently developed photographs. Some he recognized were from various theme park attractions like Blackpool and Drayton Manor. Other photos included Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament. He stopped to look at the pictures with Lucia posing in front of the Marble Arch, a wide smile on her face. The four people in the picture with her were the same people in the passports.

It was all clear to him.

Lucia had not come to this little island alone. And from the looks of the aged airline tickets sitting at the bottom of the bag, she hadn't planned on staying very long either. It's no wonder she was so cranky. West left her belongings scattered upon the desk and blew out all but one candle for her to see by. He stripped down to his shorts and moved behind her. Lucia tensed when as laid his hands on her shoulders.

"Do you miss your friends?" He continued not expecting an answer. "I understand. Everyone here lost their friends and family too. We lost our homes and our entire way of life."

He leaned in close to her face, his lips brushed her ear.

"The only chance we have is to start over here..." he whispered and planted a small peck on her cheek. "Waverley."

West squeezed her shoulder sympathetically and then crawled into bed. Lucia stared at the lump under the covers in thought. For some reason, she was expecting more _physical _activities to transpire before he decided they could sleep. But it appeared he wished to let her be for the night. She was grateful for it however skeptical. Major West wasn't the easiest man to understand, but she secretly hoped being this close to him would present a weakness she and the others could use to escape.

Lucia rose from the vanity table and stripped down to her underwear, still feeling a little uneasy that he'd uncovered her secret. She shook away the thought then crawled into the side of the bed farthest from the soldier and went to sleep.

* * *

The heavy curtains in the master bedroom cleverly shielded the morning sunlight from stirring the two sleepers within. When Lucia finally opened her eyes she could feel that it was later then her usual waking time. Selena and Hannah were surely already downstairs in the kitchen. Lucia threw one leg off the bed and scanned the floor for her day clothes. A strong hand wrapped around her wrist gently tugging her back.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Breakfast of course." Lucia blinked at him. _Dumbass_.

"Aren't you forgetting our agreement," he caressed her wrist with his thumb and gently closed his fingers around her forearm. "Let the others handle it."

Lucia pulled her leg back under the covers laid down next to the soldier who immediately scooped her up in his arms and planted butterfly kisses on her neck. She stiffened at his touch.

"You never answered my question," he said

"What?"

"Who have you killed?"

"Who cares?" She shrugged.

"Tell me, I want to know," he pushed. "You rarely speak your mind, but you don't hesitate to act on it.."

"You expect something more?" She turned her head away from him annoyed.

"I expect you to answer the question." He could play this game with her all day if he had to. "Why are you keeping your name a secret?"

_It's no secret. I just don't want to talk about it, ass._

There was no way to escape him and no way to ignore his questions. He wasn't going to stop until she produced some answers. "How did you end up with that little group, Waverley?"

Lucia winced at the sound of her true name. His tightened grip around her body made it obvious he wasn't going to let her go this time. She sighed heavily and stared across the room in thought. After a few moments she spoke...

* * *

_FB_

"Waverley! Come over here!"

The young African American girl took one last photo of the entrance to the University of Manchester and hurried to catch up to her friends. She was in total awe over the architecture and the history behind what seemed like every corner of the city. It was all so exciting. There was only a week left in their stay and still so much left to see.

Waverley joined her friends across the street. Her best friend, Erica Lopez, dropped her bag on the ground in frustration and kneeled down to dig inside of it furiously.

"I could have sworn I brought those batteries with me," she said.

"Holding us up again!!" Vincent shook his head at her.

"Oh shut up," She unzipped a side patch and felt around inside of it. "I got them in here somewhere."

"What are you looking for?" asked Monica, a curly redheaded girl.

"The spare battery for my digital camera. They cost a fortune to replace," Erica replied."I think I left them at the hotel."

Melody vainly raked her fingers through her lengthy brown hair. "Here. You can just use mine."

Erica sighed and zipped up her bag.

"No thanks I'll just used this crappy old one." She stood and produced a second camera from her pocket and examined it. "Shit, does anyone have any double A's?"

"Not on me," Waverley answered.

Vincent shook his head. "You left those in the vibrator didn't you Mel?"

An offended looked washed over Melody's flushed face and she reward him with a playful tap on his chest. Everyone giggled.

"Lets find a BestBuy or something. I can't go to the Lowry without taking any pictures. God knows none of _you _have any sense of composition." Erica led the way.

The girls flicked their palms at her in a 'whatever' fashion and followed her. The city was vibrant and full of life. Thankfully the rain wasn't going to come their way til the end of the week. By then they'd be on their way out of the country and headed home. Vincent asked a local for directions to the nearest store that might have what they were looking for. The girls went into the shop while Vincent waited outside.

Waverley strayed away from the others and browsed through the isles. She noticed that a group of shoppers were huddled around several tv screens mounted on the wall in back. Curious, she went over to take a look.

"_... authorities warn the public not to panic however locals living on the outskirts of Peterborough, and anywhere between there and Leicester should be on the lookout for these deadly rioters." _The newscaster reported._ "Again, Cambridge seems to be overrun by rioters. Last night, these seemingly cannibalistic mobs of people, wrecked havoc on the town and even attacked police who tried to subdue the situation, leaving mutilated corpses in their wake," _The screen showed footage of dozens of dark figures chasing people down on the street and tackling them to the ground. Officers in full riot gear struggled with crazed civilians.

The newscaster continued. _"Police say this is unlike any riot they've ever seen before, where women and children are also taking part in this terrible bloodshed. Until the situation is under control, all transit in or around Cambridge will be closed until further notice. It's still however uncertain who is responsible for the cause of these deadly attacks and why. We'll keep you updated as this mystery unfolds."_

"My nephew is in Cambridge," an older man said out loud.

"Waverley! Let's go!" Waverley snapped out of her trance and hurried back to the front of the store.

Two mornings later Waverley and her roommates were awakened by heavy knocking on their hotel room door. She raised her head high enough to look at the digital clock on the night stand. It was around 4am.

"Who the hell is that?" Erica stumbled out of bed and walked dizzily to the door. "WHO IS IT?"

She peeked through the peek-hole in the door first and then pulled it open.

Melody and Vincent rushed into the room, obviously wide awake and bothered.

"Do you guys see this?" Melody flicked on the television and turned it to a news station.

"No we were sleeping," Monica grumbled, her eyes half closed.

Melody hushed her. "Just listen!"

The newscaster on the television spoke. _"... keep in mind we just received this information, London appears to be under attack by some sort of mob. This is the same mob that was rioting in Cambridge a few days ago. Their numbers seem to have grown dramatically in the thousands since then. Yesterday they reportedly took over Cambridge and Peterborough, and they appear to be entering parts of Northampton as we speak. Communications with most of these places have been completely severed making it difficult to find out just exactly what's going on..."_

"That's less than 100 miles from here," Vincent announced.

The screen changed to a map of England. A red blotch of color representing the 'rioters' stretched across a decent chunk of the continent. _"...has declared this a state of emergency. Reports that the military is setting up base in Birmingham, Manchester, and London to launch a counterattack and defend the cities from seeing the bloodbath that we saw in Peterborough. The _

_public is encouraged to stay in these cities avoid all travel in any of the danger zones. Despite this advice, residents in Birmingham are flooding to the International Airport and I repeat, northern parts of London are under attack..."_

"Anyone else want to cut this vacation short?" Melody raised her hand.

Now wide awake by the news, the quintet packed up their belongings and met in the hallway outside their rooms.

"Lets just hope its not too crowded," Melody said texting away on her cell phone.

"Crowded?" Vincent slipped on his jacket. "Just look outside the window. The whole city is waking up to this news. I'm sure a million other people have the same idea as us."

"Well lets hurry before the lines get too big," Waverley hitched her bag over her shoulder.

It took two separate elevators to carry them and their luggage carts to the first floor. When they reached the main lobby it was busy with rushing people. The employees at every counter were swamped with questions and complaints from guests.

"We can just call them from the airport and tell them we're not coming back. It's already paid for anyway. Fuck it. Let's go," Erica said.

In silent agreement, they passed through the front doors of the grand hotel. The sky was cloudy and dark. The doorman flagged down a couple of cabs for them and they piled in. In front of every hotel on either side of the street there were dozens of guests eager to leave at once. The five college friends loaded into the two cabs and headed for Manchester International Airport.

The group arrived at their destination in good time. Luckily for them most of the panicked side of the population was still asleep or hadn't arrived yet. Much to their dismay the next available flight out to New York wasn't due to leave til one in the afternoon. They were stuck. The crowds rolled in, in the following hours. The group waited patiently in the sitting area outside of the terminal, confident that they would only have to endure it for a little longer and soon be well on their way back to American soil.

Around 2 o' clock, an announcement was made to the hopeful passengers that the flight had been delayed. Waverley rose from her chair to look at the monitor display of incoming and outbound flights. She saw that several other planes leaving the country had been delayed as well.

"Fuck!" Monica huffed. "We'd be better off going back to the hotel and trying again tomorrow if they're going to keep us here all damn day."

"Anyone else hungry? I'm going to go get a Big Mac," Vincent said standing up.

"Yeah get me a cheeseburger meal," Erica said, and handed him money and dialed a number on her phone.

"Anyone else?"

"Yeah get me a Big Mac too," Waverley handed him a few bills.

Melody stood and picked up her handbag. "I'm gonna go find some coffee to calm my nerves."

"I'll go with you. I saw a Starbucks back there." Monica rose from her seat too.

Erica slouched in her chair with her cell phone pressed against her ear. Waverley could hear her mother yelling into the receiver on the other end, obviously frustrated over the news of their delay.

"Erica Lucia Guadalupe Lopez, you get on the very next flight and come home!"

Waverley folded her arms and sighed as she watched more flights on the monitors flick from delayed to cancelled. A few terminals down, a group of people gathered around a large tv screen mounted on the wall. Their faces all carrying the same expression of worry and concern. She trotted over to join them in watching the new broadcast.

"_... received reports that an hour ago the blockades around the northern parts of London have been overrun. Rioters are tearing through the city at an alarming rate. The government has ordered an evacuation of all major cities in England. UK officials say that this growing mob of rioters has expanded into well over one-hundred thousand in the recent hours." _The screen flicked to images of London in a panic with smoke rising into the sky from distant fires. The 'rioters' swarmed the streets, chasing down innocent people, the sound of sirens filled the air. Mobs of panicked residents scattered everywhere.

The newscaster continued. _"Scientists say that these attackers are carrying a highly contagious disease which is passed through blood. Physical characteristics of this infection include: chronic vomiting of blood and mucus, violent temperament, blood seeping through the pores and orifices of the body, erratic behavior, and dark red eyes. Again, stay away from anyone with these characteristics. They are infected with a highly contagious disease. The Infected appear to lose all sense of restraint and attack anyone who crosses their path. I am told that we have lost communication with Norwich, Northampton, and several parts of London. Do not attempt to enter these areas and avoid them at all costs-"_

"Waverley!" Erica appeared at her side and pulled at her arm. "Where'd you go?"

Waverley allowed herself to be dragged away from the television. "The news. There's some freaky shit going on."

Vincent and the others met them halfway. "I was talking to these guys from Chicago in line and they said there's another flight going to the States-"

"Where is it?!" Monica chimed in.

"-but it's in Birmingham. It leaves in about two and a half hours," he finished.

"Can we make it?" Melody asked.

"But we already checked our bags." Erica reminded them.

"So what, they'll be on the next flight out to New York, if the plane ever comes. Besides they have address tags." Monica said. "We got our money, Wave's holding our passports. All we need is a ticket out of here."

"But can we get there in time? That's what, an hour? Two hours away?" Waverley said. "How do we know that it won't be full by the time we get there? There's no guarantee."

"Well we have to do something," Erica put her cell phone away. "Our flight has just been cancelled."

"Well I gotta warn you the TV says there's some serious shit going on. London's getting hit right now and they're evacuating the whole fucking country."

"If we're gonna go we better do it now."

Inside the taxis everyone was glued to their mobile phones. Waverley sat in the window seat pinned next to Vincent and Melody. She stared out of the window at the waves of traffic heading in both directions. The road leading into Manchester was moving slow and steady. The road moving south towards Birmingham was less crowded and still flowing smoothly. Waverley had a bad feeling about this risky move. If the TV was right, then the danger would be closing in on Birmingham soon. Plane or no, they'd be better off staying in Manchester, perhaps heading north by bicycle into Scotland. Something! She just prayed for a miracle.

"I know Mom..." Mel shouted into the receiver. "We're trying- we're trying to find a way off the island... No, they cancelled all flights going to America... We're on our way to Birmingham airport now... I'll call you again when we get there. Tell Vincent's mom we're okay. Okay? ... Love you Mom... Bye."

She hung up.

Waverley tapped on the glass to alert the driver. "Can you turn the radio up please?"

"_... crowds are taking to the streets in a panic to leave England. Unfortunately in response to this crisis, several international flights have been cancelled in the past few hours. With most intercity rail systems shut down and planes grounded, thousands have flocked to the coastline in hopes to catch a ferry to the mainland. However there are reports that several boats are leaving the docks and not returning. Many people are attempting to barter their way onboard private vessels for inflated prices..."_

"The whole country's gone to shit," the old driver muttered. "I think you folks will be my last fares for today. I'll get you as close to the airport as I can, but I expect there to be a nasty crowd. They say these things are closing in on the city."

"Things?" Vincent asked.

"The TV says that the 'rioters' are infected with some sort of virus," Waverley reported. "If their blood gets on you, you get infected too."

"Ew."

Unlike the streets of Manchester, Birmingham was packed bumper to bumper with cars and panicked residents. Traffic was backed up for miles on the main roads. Helicopters hovered above in the sky. A man's voice sounded over the loud speaker urging people to head toward a destination that the young American tourists knew nothing about. Minor car collisions and traffic congestion slowed movement on the highway down to a crawl.

A low flying plane fresh off the runway passed over head. Vincent stuck his head out of the window and looked at the sky. He exited the vehicle and stood on his toes to see over the cars in front of them.

"What is it?" Melody questioned.

Vincent poked his head into the passenger side window. "How far is it to the airport from here?"

"About 7 miles down this road. It goes right by the airport."

Vincent pulled a small wad of cash out of his pocket and handed it to the cab driver. "We really appreciate the help. We'll walk from here on."

"What??" Melody asked again.

"No problem." The cabby shook his hand. "You kids take care of yourself. Good luck getting home."

Vincent helped his girlfriend and Waverley get out of the cab. "We'll get there a lot faster on foot. This traffic isn't going anywhere."

Waverley waved at the second cab who had fallen a few cars behind and signaled them to follow. Erica and Monica paid their driver and hurried to catch up. The group walked along the side of the highway, passing hundreds of cars. It was no surprise that many people followed their example and did the same.

Forty-five minutes later, they arrived at the airport. To there dismay the queue lines had expanded beyond the front doors. There's no way they would be able to make it in time.

"What now?"

"What about the army guys? If they're evacuating, they gotta have a way out right?" Erica asked. "Where the hell are they telling everyone to go?"

Screams echoed through the halls of the airport. Everyone quieted down to listen. Shortly after there were gunshots, then a distant siren roared to life. The Infected had invaded the runways, following fleeing baggage handlers into the terminals. Without further hesitation people began to push their way toward the streets. Voices cried out over loud speakers, telling the public where to flee. The young Americans turned toward the nearest street and ran.

Locking hands, they followed the pack. They couldn't see anything and all they could hear were screams and the roaring sounds of the siren. Helicopters buzzed by overhead. Melody's sandal straps broke four blocks later sending her to the pavement. Vincent and Monica stopped to help her up. A fleeing man body-slammed into them and two more people tripped into her as they hit the ground.

Up ahead, Erica and Waverley realized they were alone and stopped next to a street lamp. Waverley climbed the base of the pole to search for her friends.

"I don't see them," She called down to her friend.

A loud explosion sounded back somewhere on the airport runway marked by a cloud of fire that rose into the sky. Upon sighting the Infected, a plane awaiting clearance attempted to take off in a hurry but clipped another aircraft waiting nearby in the process. The collision threw the jet off balance and it slid into the ground, snapping in two.

The sounds of the accident sent the fleeing people into a larger panic and they began to shove each other out of the way. Anyone who fell was trampled by everyone behind them. Erica climbed onto the pole next to her friend to keep from being pushed along. Unknowingly the other half of their party passed them by on the opposite side of the street straining their necks in search of them among the mob ahead.

Several blocks behind them, the Infected spilled onto the streets.

_F/B_

* * *

"Go on," Major West listened attentively.

"Erica and I hid inside of a storage shed and waited til all of the noise and the sirens stopped outside. I'm not sure how long we were in there. When we came out the city was in ruins and deserted. Nothing but bodies and blood everywhere." Lucia closed her eyes for a minute and opened them again, refusing to become a blubbering mess. "We found a door open in a back alley way behind a grocery store... There was an Infected in the back room... he jumped Erica... I couldn't find anything to get him off of her so I beat him in the head with anything I could find until he finally died. Then I saw what he'd done to Erica. She started twitching and coughing up blood. She was doing everything the TV had said..."

She drifted off, staring across the room in thought.

"So you killed her," West finished.

"Selena and the others came to the store looking for food claiming they were on their way to a sanctuary," she turned her back to him with a heavy sigh. "And so I went with them."

"I'm sorry to hear about your friends." But not about her capture. He wouldn't even acknowledge the disappointment in her voice. "That must have been terrifying for you."

Lucia hated him and he knew it. But he had convinced himself that in a couple of weeks, this depression and hostility would fade away. Once she and the others came to terms and accepted their situation, they would all be different women. Lucia had so much potential. All she lacked was the right motivation.

"Some of the pilots in Manchester freaked out and crash in the middle of the sodding city. Stupid accidents on the ground started more fires and before you know it, the whole city was up in flames." He squeezed her shoulder and kissed it. "It's probably better that you left when you did."

Lucia felt the sting of anger but held her tongue. He could do whatever he wanted to her. If it meant keeping just one more of those pricks off of Hannah, then this was all worth it. West gently tugged on her shoulder til she reluctantly rolled on her back again. He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, following her jaw line, then turned her chin to him. She was battling herself not to push him away.

"You did what you had to do. Thank you for sharing with me," he said, grazing his thumb across her lower lip A pesky tear escaped out of the corner of her eye and he kissed it away. She was so vulnerable in his arms. He pressed his groin against her thigh. "Now there's something I need you do for me."

Breakfast would have to wait.


	7. Bitter Escape

**Writers Notes**: There is a section in here that is about as close to "adult content" as this story gets, but I didn't feel it was worth turning over the_ T_ rating for that small part. If you are sensitive (or underaged) towards _R_-like material, then I recommend you skip/scroll past the second section between Lucia and Major West since it's meant for character development rather than actual plot.

P.S. I didn't realize the Chapter 6 I posted was an old verison, so I updated it with the newer one which contains a few minor additions/corrections to the dialogue and a few key parts that might be referred to later in the story (you probably won't even miss them.) I also would like to say that I appreciate the kind reviews :)

30 Days After by Lastlegolife

Chapter 7: Bitter Escape

The sun was out again finally and it was the perfect time to wash the drapes and hang the rest of the wet bed covers outside. To the ladies dismay the clotheslines were in the area where the Major kept an infected former soldier, Private Mailer, for a pet. Selena found a roll of plastic rope and created her own line across the courtyard. Most things were hand washed to save water. Things that were very dirty were sent through a generator powered washing machine in the basement.

Selena appeared in the entryway to the courtyard carrying a basket-load of silvery drapes. She went over to Lucia who was hanging up her own basket of laundry. They hadn't spent much time together since the commanding officer made her his roommate two days ago.

"So, how's it feel to be First Lady of the Household?" She said in an acidic tone.

"What are you talking about?" Lucia lowered her voice. Bedford and Bell were engaged in a conversation near the house. "This wasn't my idea."

"Yeah?" Selena wasn't convinced. She started hanging up her sheets. "What was then? The part where you safeguarded your life being the bosses bitch or was it when you sold me out to those bastards?"

"Keep your voice down," Lucia checked to make sure the men hadn't heard her. "Listen to me. It was all Henry's doing. He was going to move me wether I agreed to it or not. I had to bargain with him to protect Hannah."

"_Henry _is it now? Sounds like you just want to protect yourself!"

"I'm telling the truth!" Lucia struggled to keep her voice low. "I'm no better off than I was before. I told him I'd cook if they stay away from her. As long as I keep being his bitch Hannah is safe for now."

Selena's face softened as she looked down at the sheet in her hand. She let her anger out in a heavy sigh. "Somehow I don't think that agreement will last very long. There's nothing stopping them you realize. I think we're lucky they haven't upgraded to torture."

It was Lucia's turn to sigh heavily. "I know. It's a troubling thought. He seems to be planning something but he hasn't told me what."

"How do you mean?"

"He keeps writing something in a book."

"What book?"

"I don't know. I've never seen it. He keeps it locked in a safe."

"Well," Selena continued, deciding the mysterious book wasn't important, "Any ideas about how we're going to get out of here. If I have to sleep with Clifton one more time I'll kill myself."

"I've been wracking my brains for days. We need a vehicle." She checked the soldiers again. The Major was standing with them now, watching her. She tried to move her lips as little as possible while keeping up her work pace. "Keep an eye out for keys to that jeep."

"The Sergeant had those yea?"

"Yeah," Lucia finished her drapes and helped Selena with the sheets. "Clifton might have them now."

"We have to get them to lower their guard til we can make our move."

They worked in silence for a moment.

"I don't know how long I can keep this up Lucia." Selena admitted. "I keep worrying about what happened to Jim and what might happen to Hannah. She's better off dead then having to live like this."

"We have to try," Lucia replied thoughtfully. She wiped away a bead of sweat that had escaped the scarf holding back her hair. She quickly checked the soldiers again and saw that the Major was gone. "Hannah doesn't deserve this and neither do we. Fight until there's nothing left."

"I suppose you're right," Selena didn't sound convinced but straightened her posture as if she were. "Do it for Hannah, if nothing else."

"Lucy!" Bedford beckoned her over from afar.

"Whatever we do, we better do it fast." Lucia acknowledged him with a wave of her hand. "I think he's trying to get me pregnant."

Stunned, Selena watched on as Lucia headed into the house.

* * *

The Private pointed the American girl toward the staircase where Major West stood waiting for her. Skeptical she approached him cautiously.

"You wanted to see me?" She asked.

_What now?_

The older man politely gestured for her to walk ahead of him. "After you."

Lucia slowly ascended the staircase glancing back at him nervously. He ushered her to the master bedroom, allowing her to go in first, and locked the door behind him. He pulled off his jacket and dropped it carelessly on the floor.

One arm slid around her waist while the other pulled off the scarf holding back her hair. Lucia dropped her hands at her sides and stiffened. He rubbed her cheek with his thumb and then let it wander into her mouth. She didn't fight nor did she have a choice. The soldier kissed her passionately and slowly backed her against the vanity table. He squeezed her arm and she jerked back in pain. West paused a moment and realized that she was still sore from the late Corporals attack. He stroked her face apologetically and started to undress her.

Lucia wasn't the prettiest of the lot but she wasn't terribly unattractive either. She had more baggage than the other two women in the house but he didn't find it at all unsatisfying. Since she had moved in he found several things to like about her and that made spending their quality time alone more interesting. One thing he liked in particular was her insecure, serious exterior which she used to mask how vulnerable she truly was. He found pleasure in exposing it.

At least an hour had passed.

The couple finally found their way from the table to the bed where the Major continued to make love with his new body slave. Usually Lucia would try to let her mind ignore the things happening to her while her body responded as it was meant to do, but this time it was impossible. There was a lust in his eyes that she had never seen before. He was taking his time with her, watching her reactions and timing them carefully to his rhythmic strokes. She had already climaxed several times. He was well overdue for another.

West ran his palms vertically along her neck and planted a sloppy kiss on her lips. "Waverley... "

The Major preferred to use her real name while they were alone. He fancied the idea of being the only one to know her true identity for some reason. In return he insisted she use his first name in private though she stubbornly preferred not to.

"Huh?" It came out as a moan.

"Say my name," he repeated. "I want to hear you say it."

When she didn't respond, he closed his fingers firmly around her throat without skipping a thrust. Not to choke her, but just a warning. Lucia whimpered and did as she was told. He was talking to her now but she couldn't make out the words. His mouth was pressed against her cheek and his lips tugged at her earlobe.

She came. The soldier repositioned his hands around her body and drove for his own release. With a deep groan Major West climaxed. He collapsed on top of her panting heavily. They'd finally finished.

Lucia lay still beneath West, unsure how long he intended to hold her down like this again... inside of her. She relaxed to allow him an opportunity to move but to her dismay, he didn't budge. Usually he withdrew at the proper time, but the bastard had gotten lazy and far more demanding since she'd moved in. It was moments like this which led Lucia to believe her suspicions were true.

West finally lifted his head and wiped a lock of sweat-drenched hair out of her eyes. "Good girl."

Tired and frustrated, she eased her way out from underneath him and staggered to the bathroom to wash up.

"Thanks babe," He smiled as the door slammed shut.

* * *

Lucia returned downstairs to find Selena in the kitchen washing dishes. Hannah had been left behind in Private Bell's care to finish the rest of the laundry. Dinner time was nearly an hour away. West declared to her as she left that he would take full responsibility for supper being late yet again. The jackass couldn't help but to find some way to display how much power he had over her.

'Just add water' would be her motto for the day. Tonight Lucia decided to make a vegetarian stew using canned vegetables and dry soup mix with instant mashed potatoes and gravy. Imitation butter would be her secret weapon choice for the night. Bedford sat guard in a chair by the kitchen door engrossed in an outdated fashion magazine. He flipped briskly through the pages using his imagination voodoo on the couture models.

A short while later, Clifton arrived at the top of the stairs with Hannah at his side. He and Jones had spent the afternoon gathering more fire wood for the boiler. The keys to the vehicle that carried them home jingled loosely from a steel clip attached to his belt catching Lucia's attention. "Bedford, go help 'em unload the truck, will yah. I'll keep an eye on them."

Bedford tossed his magazine aside and left the room. Hannah went to the stove to help lay out the bowls to be filled on the table.

Lucia moved close to Selena and spoke in a low voice. "It's time."

Clifton sat in the chair with his gun braced against his knee and watched the women work with mild interest.

Selena turned to the younger girl. "Hannah, leave that for now and help Lucy, yeah?"

Hannah nodded and moved near Lucia as Selena picked up a handful of silverware and took the longer route around the kitchen table to retrieve the serving cart from it's place in the corner. As she crossed the room a spoon _accidently _flew free of her hand and landed near Clifton's boot. Amused, he watched as she bent down to pick up and turn away from him slowly. As predicted he landed a sharp slap across her rump. She turned to him angrily.

"Must you keep doing that?" She growled.

"Yes I must," he smirked and did it again.

Selena tried to knock his hand away and missed. She took a step toward him, further provoking a confrontation. "You're nothing but bastards all of you!"

Clifton took the bait. He rose to his feet, leaving his gun on the floor, and closed the gap between them. He chuckled, daring her to make a move. "You weren't saying that the other night." He mused. "Speaking of which it's my turn tonight bitch. And you can bet you won't forget it."

The unruly soldier wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed her hips into his. Hannah and Lucia continued working as if they were blind to what was happening on the other side of the room. Dropping the spoons, Selena struggled with Clifton as he tried to back her up into the table. With a quick shift of her hips she turned in the opposite direction. He followed her movements and instead used his weight to press her smaller form against the wall with his back to the room.

"Get his keys. Be careful," Lucia whispered to Hannah.

The young brunette nodded and tip-toed across the room. Lucia began to stir the pot of vegetarian stew, purposely scraping the spoon along the sides of the pot to mask the sounds of Hannah's movement.

Clifton kept his attention on Selena. He placed his forearm against her neck while the other roughly stroked the length of her body. "You haven't forgotten what it feels like, have yah yet?"

Selena's lower lip trembled. It took a moment for him to realize she was tugging at his jacket. Rather than pushing him away he discovered she was actually caressing his torso beneath the thin layer of clothing. He lowered the offending arm around her neck and locked lips with her in a sloppy kiss.

Hannah moved in, trying hard to not make her presence known. The keys dangled loosely from his waist. She wrapped her slender fingers around the clip. Clifton shifted suddenly, interrupting her, and planted wet kisses around Selena's neck. Making brief eye contact with the younger girl, Selena silently begged for her to hurry. She quickly raised Clifton's face back to her lips. The soldier seemed to had forgotten all sense of duty.

Hannah tried again, lacing her fingers around the clip and slowly started to work the hook over the loop on the hem of his pants. She held the keys tightly in her fist to prevent them from jingling. Selena raised her knee and brushed it against his thigh, allowing Hannah to quickly work the hook free without causing alert. Clifton merely took the intimate act as a well deserved invitation.

"Oy!"

The women flinched in unison. Everyone snapped their heads around in the direction the voice had come from. Bedford stood in the doorway, his eyes fixated on Hannah who stood frozen with terror.

Clifton quickly followed his comrades gaze to the teenager lurking behind him. "Stealing from me are yah?!"

He released the African goddess and snatched his keys away from her with one hand and landed a slap on her cheek with the other. Hannah cried out and clutched her face. With an animalistic growl, Selena lurched at Clifton's back. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clawed at his face. He bumped the table launching a few bowls on the floor where they shattered into several pieces.

Bedford hurried over to pull the wild woman away from his friend but he was intercepted by a flying pot that landed a direct hit on his skull. He stumbled upon impact and quickly regained his balance. He looked up in time to see Lucia swing a large frying pan at his temple. She connected and he went down.

Clifton swore as he tried to wrestle Selena off of him. The African goddess suddenly hopped down as Lucia's frying pan smashed over the soldier's capitulum. He clutched his head and reached out to grab one of them but they moved away. Realizing the danger he was in, he cried for assistance. Selena kicked the back of his knees causing him to lose his balance and fall, grunting as he hit the ground. Hannah joined in the brawl and kicked at Clifton's back. They had to silence him fast but they feared that they had already wasted too much time.

Selena snatched up the keys. "We gotta go now!"

The three girls hurried towards the steps. Bedford who was presumably knocked out, reach out for the nearest ankle and dragged it to the ground. Lucia kicked at him violently with her other foot. He pulled her towards him with the intention of pinning her down. Hannah and Selena intercepted and kicked at his hands and face but he held on tight.

Clifton stumbled over the trio and wrapped his arms around smallest attacker and lifted her away from the others.

"Let go of me! Selena!" She felt his heated breath against her skin as he cried out at the top of his lungs for help.

It came.

Private Davis and Private Bell flew into the room quickly accessing the situation. They each took one of Selena's arms and pulled her away to another corner of the room. She kicked and screamed in frustration. Bedford's grip finally loosened and Lucia climbed to her feet only to be tackled by Jones from behind.

"Stop it, Lucy! Stop!" He pleaded as she continued to struggle. Bedford came over to help subdue her. "Stop fightin'! It'll only make it worse."

Outnumbered and out-muscled, the women gave up. Growling in her throat, Lucia stamped her foot like an agitated mare.

Major West hurried down the steps and took a quick survey of the room and rested his eyes on Lucia. His face changed from focused to anger and he approached her. She stared back at him, her chest rising and falling sharply as her heart pounded within.

He slapped her once.

He slapped her again.

"No!" Hannah shrieked from the corner.

"You lied to me," Major West said to Lucia, ignoring the young girl's plea. "And you broke our agreement."

Lucia clenched her jaw tightly in defiance. He could see the rush of blood flush over the toffee tones in her face. Her eyes shifted nervously toward Hannah who was still locked in Clifton's grip. Her cheeks were red and moist with tears.

"Put them downstairs."

* * *

The soldiers rarely ventured into the basement and the few that did usually never traveled beyond the washing machine by the stairs. Underneath the steps sat several aged boxes of seasonal decorations. Further in the back there was a maze of antique furniture and priceless family heirlooms.

It was dark except for the light escaping from around the edges of the door upstairs. Lucia sat on the floor. Her hands tied securely around a support beam adjacent to the stairs. She knew somewhere across the way in the corner Hannah was tied to a water line that fed into the back of the washing machine. They listened to the floor boards over their heads creak under the heavy boots of the men above. Except for the occasional sound of running water, through the pipes lining the walls, it was quiet.

The door opened with a creak at the top of the stairs. A flood of light spilled into the room illuminating Hannah across the way. She flinched and shielded her eyes from the rays. Multiple heavy footsteps descended the staircase. Clifton and Bell appeared with Selena walking between them. Only a few hours earlier, they had come to take her away. The newly appointed officer was determined not to miss his night with the African goddess after such an eventful day.

The men led her over to an adjacent wall and tied her hands securely to a broken rusty radiator. The soldiers scanned over the other two women briefly and headed back upstairs. The door closed and they were once again enveloped in darkness.

Lucia listened to their footsteps move farther away. "I'm so sorry Selena."

"Sorry's not good enough for any of us," Selena said sharply. "Sorry won't get us rescued or set us free. There's nothing to be sorry about. They'd had done it anyway," her voice softened. "They knew we'd try to escape someday."

"They want to break us," Lucia announced.

"Do they mean to kill us here?" Hannah's small voice came from the corner.

"No, sweety," Lucia clarified. "They want us to submit."

_Perhaps we should._

Selena laughed painfully. guffawed. "I'd rather die than be their bitch forever. It'll only get worse." She continued. "And what happens when one of us gets pregnant? Do we really want to bring a baby into this kind of life?"

Hannah's soft sobs reached their ears.

"I miss my dad," she wept. "Mum... I don't want to do this anymore!"

"I should throw myself at Mailer then I could take one of those bastards out as an Infected."

"Hannah, calm down. Please." Lucia cooed. "Selena, you're scaring her."

The older woman pulled her legs up to her chest and began to rock herself into tears. They sat in silence listening to the young girl who was crying in full force now. Lucia felt the sting of defeat biting at her own eyes. It would be a long time before the soldiers dropped their guard again.

This is what he wanted. _He wants us to give up..._

"Damn you Henry."


	8. The Smoking Gun

**Notes:** I wrote about eight different versions of this chapter. Load that up with a ten ton brick of writer's block and you have yourself a delayed chapter. But fear not my darlings, I have nice juicy long one for you this time. This one is a bit bloody but not too graphic. Enjoy!

30 Days After by Lastlegolife

Chapter 8: The Smoking Gun

_1700 hours_

Sharp eyes peered through the binoculars scanning the long stretch of road ahead. Lieutenant-Colonel Reddinger wiped the rain droplets from the lens and looked again. There was no doubt about it. Four civilian vehicles roared up the highway toward the M602 blockade. The erratic swaying of their headlights in the fading sunlight could only mean one thing... the Infected were coming.

"Major," he said to the tall man beside him. "Get ready to attack. Save the civilians if you can but do not let the enemy penetrate this line."

"Yes'sir!" Major West nodded in approval and leaned over the railing of the scaffold to get the attention of the soldiers below. "Take defensive positions! Do not open the gates until I give the order! No Infected are coming through this blockade!"

"Aye sir!"

Sergeant Farrell trekked across the length of the gate calling out assignments. He took his place near an opening in the metal panels near the main gates with a good view of the street.

Upon sighting the blockade the driver of the lead civilian car honked frantically and swerved trying to shake off two Infected dangling from the roof. His frightened sister in the passenger seat held onto the dashboard to steady herself. Behind them at another car whom was fighting off one of it's own zig-zagged across the road in a panic. The family inside screamed in terror as the Infected slipped into a broken rear window. The car turned sharply and flipped over. The soldiers watched helplessly as other vehicles danced around it, barely avoiding a collision.

Just then a blanket of infected appeared over the horizon. The thunder of their footsteps sent a chill down the backs of the men.

"Steady lads," Sergeant soothed.

Only hours ago the camp received word about the effects of the contagious disease the homicidal rioters carried. Radio broadcasts reported its devastation in the southern regions of the continent but the men had yet to witness it for themselves. Their orders were to protect the path into the city and kill anyone that showed symptoms of the disease on sight.

"No Infected get passed this gate. Stay sharp!"

The small car in front shook free one assailant and she tumbled limply into the street. Two oncoming vehicles swerved to avoid it and smashed into each other in a metal heap. The approaching Infected enveloped the wreckage, temporarily stalling their pursuit. The screams of the victims inside were unrecognizable over their starved cries.

The surviving car approached the blockade at a frightening speed. The Infected man above punched through the sunroof dove head first into the opening. The little car rolled on his side and skidded to a halt a few yards away from the blockade.

"Go! Go! Go!"

The gates parted and team of five men rushed out. The soldiers worked quickly to pull the dazed man and woman free from the wreckage. Unknowingly the remaining Infected lay pinned partially inside of the car. As they pulled the woman from the side window, it stirred and sank its teeth into her leg.

"Hurry! Get in here now! They're coming!"

There was no time to waste. The soldiers shoved the civilians through the steel gates and they were sealed shut once again. Focus was returned to the highway and the approaching threat.

The two civilians were ushered quickly across the camp to the larger tent where the surgeon and his team stood waiting. He noticed the twitching woman right away and examined her pupils with a flashlight. As the other assistants laid her down on the examining table, her body began to spasm violently. They struggled to hold her down as the surgeon prepared a syringe.

"I don't know what's wrong with her! She was fine in the car!" Her concerned brother cried from nearby. "Sarah!"

A tremor seemed to travel through her body finally erupting at her mouth with a geyser of blood. She sat up with a jolt and vomited. The tainted blood splashed onto her brother's chest and mouth.

"She's infected!" The surgeon alerted his medical staff.

Sarah snapped her head in the direction of an assistant. With an inhuman growl, she leapt on him tearing and biting at his face and neck. The soldier didn't have time to react. He tumbled over with Sarah on top of him and screamed for help. The surgeon took out his pistol and aimed to fire but was tackled by her infected brother. One of the assistants ran over to help but the enraged man raked sharp fingernails across his face and arm before effectively shoving him away. A waterfall of bloody vomit showered the surgeon.

Sarah looked up from her mauling and fixed her blood red eyes on the final assistant who stood posed at the door with his weapon aimed at her. Crimson ooze dripped from her lips as she stared at him intently. Trembling and too afraid to fire, the assistant turned and ran out of the tent.

"Help me!" He screamed flailing his arms in a panic. "She's infected! Help!"

Sarah burst through the fabric of the medical tent and closed in on the assistant. Just as she grabbed him, the side of her skull exploded and she fell dead to the ground. The assistant backed away from her and turned to the shooter.

Corporal Mitchell glared at him angrily. "Get 'hold of yourself you fucken muppet!"

The assistant raised a trembling hand and pointed towards the tent as the freshly infected soldiers tumbled out. Mitchell swore and flew to the Sergeant. "Sir! The medics! They're infected!"

Farrell followed his gaze toward the medical tent in time to see the surgeon leap on an unsuspecting passerby. The attendants teamed up and attacked two more.

Farrell called up to the scaffold grabbing the officers attention. "Some of the men! They're infected! Orders, sir?"

Major West and Lieutenant-Colonel Reddinger turned from the battle on the highway and looked back in disbelief. How did it get past them so fast?

"Shoot them."

The tall man wasn't sure he'd heard right and stared at his superior in disbelief. On the ground, the others waited patiently for commands, equally surprised at the response.

Reddinger frowned at his hesitation and spoke sternly. "Do it. That's an order."

Training kicked in. Major West slid down the scaffold ladder and led a few subordinates toward the scuffle. By the time they reached them, the cooks and the communications officers had all been turned. The men carefully walked through the camp taking out the infected soldiers along with the civilian man.

West apologized to them under his breath but kept a stern exterior in the presence of his men. In the back of his mind he knew there was no other way. They were given no explanation given of who was responsible for unleashing such a deadly virus into the world. Even so only the highest ranks of the upper echelons would be allowed to hear the details of any top secret information. There was no known cure and it didn't seem like there would ever be.

The Major returned to the front lines. The Infected charged the gates but were gunned down a good distance away by the hail of bullets. Their bodies piled up in the street. The sun finally sank beyond the tree line. Flood lights switched on all around the camp revealing a horrifying sight approaching from the forest.

"They're coming around the gate!"

_Three days later 0700 hours_

The carcasses of torched vehicles sprinkled the M602 highway. The streets on either side of the blockade were littered with hundreds of lifeless bodies. As the night grew darker and the swarms of Infected seemed to outnumber them, Reddinger gave the order to shoot anything that moved. Only two days before, the radio announced that blockades in the southern parts of the city were overrun and Infected had leaked into Manchester. Soon the enemy was upon them from both ends.

When it looked like the soldiers had reached their limits, the tide suddenly turned and the heavy waves trickled off into an occasional handful. Once the dust settled, at least twenty soldiers were dead and the few that lived were visibly weary from it all.

A rare break in the string of attacks presented its self and the gates of the M602 blockade opened again. Armed with gloves, masks, guns and shovels, the soldiers dragged the dead away into a man-made ditch in the forest and pushed the abandoned civilian cars from the road. Others made repairs to the defenses and kept watch for danger.

Private Daniels sighed from his post atop the scaffold. His eyes scoured the tree line to the west for any signs of movement.

"It's heard to believe ain't it," Private Davis said from below. "It's like everything is crumbling before our eyes."

"I'm trying not to think about it. I don't know if my family or my girl made it out alive but," he drifted off. "Believing they did helps. I wonder what's to become of Great Britain."

Davis agreed in thought. "Things aren't so 'great' anymore. All this shit is happening too fast."

Corporal Mitchell strolled over to them with a cigarette dangling form his lips. "Well, the bloody radio's still out. The satellite's not responding either."

"Seventy-two hours in the dark," Private Clifton grumbled from his place on the other end of the scaffold. His mind anxious over what had become of his life in Leeds. "Then what the fuck are we still doing here? This mission is done."

"Base ordered us to stay so we stay," Davis shifted his weight to a more comfortable position.

"As far as I'm concerned," Mitchell crushed the butt of his cigarette under his boot and lit another. "Base can shove those orders right up their asses, mate."

"How do we know base even still exists?" Clifton commented. "Just sitting here waiting for those bloody things to break through and eat us is a load of bollocks."

"Well the O.C. wouldn't keep us here if things got that bad," Daniels observed.

"And what in the bloody hell do ya call this?" Mitchell snapped. "A fuckin picnic, you donkey?"

"More than half of us are already dead," Davis added. "As long as the company are standing between him and the Infected it doesn't matter."

Daniels shook his head. "I doubt that."

Clifton turned away from the road. "Mitch, you hear anything more from the Sergeant about us getting out of here?"

The Corporal shook his head. "Major's with Reddinger now. Not like anything will fucking come of it."

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of a commotion at the east gate. The camp stirred to life with curiosity as soldiers rushed over to assist. Mitchell threw down his cigarette and hurried over to join the growing crowd. As he got closer, cries of grief and agony reached his ears. The crowd parted revealing a young Private being carried away by two others, his face red and wrought with despair. The Sergeant followed slowly behind them unable to fully cloak his look of concern.

"Sergeant," Major West said, obviously drawn out of the command tent by the noise. "What's happened here?"

"Jones found his family among the dead during clean up and went into a fit," the Sergeant spoke in a low voice. They watched the escorts usher the young Private into his tent. His wailing echoed through the camp grounds. "Poor sob. I don't think he'll be the only one to lose it."

_Two days later 1400 hours_

It started to rain as Major West exited the Lieutenant-Colonel's tent. He paused to look up at the sky in thought. The clouds were tainted with smoke and ash from the uncontrolled blaze scorching the city far away. He walked across the campsite slowly staring at the faces of the other soldiers while listening to the roar of thunder somewhere in the distance. The men sat quietly in their defensive positions around the camp only glancing up at the Major to salute. Men at the east gate quickly removed the bodies from the street while others kept careful watch for signs of Infected closing in.

The Lieutenant-Colonel had refused his proposal to abandoned the blockade again. He wouldn't send another reconnaissance team to check the surrounding area til he was certain their loss of communication with base was more than just a glitch. The first time they sent out a team of four in search of another surviving blockade or at least any remaining military personnel still in the city.

Only one man returned, leading dozens of infected to their gates

Even when the Major offered to lead the team, Reddinger only replied that it wasn't worth the risk of losing his second. He practically defined the thought as an insubordinate and unnecessary action. As much as West respected his superior, he started to question his loyalty to him and the government that employed them. Once a cool and generally level-headed man, West found himself nearing his limits and it showed. Private Bedford casually spoke in the company of friends about a large property nearby with enough resources to possibly suit them all. Corporal Mitchell felt it was worth relaying the information to him however for some reason he didn't bother to bring it up with Reddinger.

Sergeant Farrell approached him with news. "Sir, clean up is complete. There hasn't been any sign of activity in the last six hours."

"Very good Sergeant," West nodded. There was a definite decline in attacks however still frequent. Most of them occurred at night after the flood lights came on. Sometimes there were a few, sometimes there were a lot. But for the most part they were on guard 24/7 to keep the Infected from scaling the walls into the camp. "How are the men?"

Farrell was honest as always. "Tired. Scared. Worried about their families."

"Indeed they are," he agreed. "And what of Private Jones?"

"He's been hold up in his tent since it happened. He stopped eating last I heard," the Scottish man replied sympathetically. "Pity seeing that sort of thing happen to someone so young."

"Right," he nodded. "Carry on, Sergeant."

West couldn't tell if it was sympathy or frustration that made him decide to visit the Private. If he could get inspiration from anyone to build a bigger case, it would have to be from the only man alive in the camp who truly felt the weight of loss. But when the Major entered his tent, the young soldier was sitting alone with the barrel of his gun resting inside of his mouth.

"Jones," West spoke calmly. "What are you doing?"

"We're going to die out here." The other man squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered. "I'd rather go like this than turn into one of those things."

"You won't die here. Put the gun away."

"You saw what they did the first day. You know it, we all know it. They're just going to keep coming til we're all fucking dead!" His thumb trembled against the trigger.

"That's not going to happen.," The Major struggled to find comforting words, but even he couldn't believe them. "Base will contact us once everything settles down and we'll be air-lifted out of here."

Jones shook his head as tears rolled down his cheeks. "Don't you see? They fucking left us here to die! We're expendable! No one is coming, it's over for us!"

The truth in his words stung at the Major's conscience. How long would they be able to maintain their position with so few defenses? The helicopter didn't have enough fuel to transport everyone out of the city, let alone the island.

"Even if we do survive... There's no hope," Jones tears and snot rolled down his face as he sobbed. "There's no future. The whole world's gonna be wiped out."

"Listen to me Jones," West kneeled before him and spoke calmly. "We have to survive this. Otherwise what will become of the world? I'm not going to let it end here. We're going to find more survivors and get through this."

Jones sobbed, visibly shaking.

"I don't know how just yet... but you just have to trust me," he continued, easing his hand toward the weapon. "Trust me."

After a few moments Jones finally laid the gun down and began to sob openly. West calmly moved the weapon away and gently rubbed his back to comfort him. Once satisfied that the young Private had calmed down enough to be alone the Major left and sent for Mitchell and the Sergeant.

_0100 Hours_

They left under the cover of night gladly leaving behind the cursed blockade and the fools still trying to protect it. Under special orders, Mitchell quietly stalked around the camp and rounded up a few loyal followers and friends including Mailer and the estranged Private. The Corporal cleverly left out anyone whom rubbed him the wrong way once or twice in the past (which was just about everyone) as well as the do-gooders, tattle-tells, and the useless. Personally he'd rather leave the skeptical Sergeant behind, but the Major insisted he was necessary.

They managed to sneak a jeep outside the blockade and parked it in the forest far away. The officers took control over the night watch while allowing the men involved the opportunity to slip away two at a time. There were ten altogether including Private Daniels whom stumbled onto the plot accidently. Peer pressure and threatening words from Corporal Mitchell convinced him to go along quietly.

The men arrived at the property expecting to have to negotiate room and board with the owner but they quickly learned that the Infected had long since ravaged them all. After securing the mansion they spent the night locked in the drawing room though they could hardly fall asleep.

Major West stood by the window staring out at the open yard around the house. His ears picked up the sharp clatter of gunfire in the distance over the light tapping of the rainwater against the glass. Clifton and Mitchell joined him silently. They watched a group of Infected scamper across the lawn towards the sound of the guns going off at the blockade. The fight went on for nearly an hour before the forest finally went quiet.

_Two days later 0800 hours_

The renegade soldiers returned to the blockade after a night of complete silence. The Infected had long since come and gone only leaving a few partially eaten corpses behind. There were signs that the trouble began at the east gate soon after they'd abandoned their posts. From there it was difficult to tell if the others had all died or simply given up and left in a hurry. Whatever happened, it was now certain the M602 blockade was no more.

The ex-soldiers held true to their ranks and looked to the officers for guidance and discipline. The Major naturally fell into leadership and began his own operations. They hauled most of the heavy equipment and supplies from the blockade to the property and spent the day setting up defenses around the yard. By nightfall, the mansion had been turned into a fortified stronghold.

There was enough ammunition to go around for months, but the leftover rations would only last them another week. With no other choice, the Major took five men and two trucks and traveled into Manchester. As they approached the city ash fell from the sky like soft snowflakes. The scent of fire and hot metal streamed across the air. The blaze spread from structure to structure with no sign of ever stopping until it had consumed everything in it's path. The streets were cluttered with cars and debris among several corpses.

They stopped at an empty intersection several miles from the nearest fire. It appeared that they were alone in city but they stayed alert anyway. Luckily there were still many small shops still intact and the soldiers were able pick the shelves clean of non-perishables and preservatives. Mitchell broke into a pub and loaded up on everything he could carry. Meanwhile Davis and Daniels raided a pharmacy and hardware shop. Jones found a rack of pink aprons hanging from a display at the gas station store. He put one on and danced outside pretending to be a wooden puppet to where Clifton and West were loading containers with fuel.

It was the first time he'd smiled since learning the fate of his family.

"Cut it out Jones."

He listened obediently. "Sorry sir."

"What a waste," Clifton motioned toward an electronics store across the street. "I didn't watch the telly much but I'd kill to see Bart and Homer go at it again."

There was no electricity in the house except for a few generators but maybe, just maybe one day they could put those items to use. After filling most of the trucks with rations and supplies, West sent Mitchell, Clifton and Jones across the street to loot the shop. They broke into the storage room and loaded up on radios, batteries, extension cables, and flashlights. When those were all gone, they grabbed televisions, cameras, and other expensive gadgets.

While the men worked, West lingered around the display window of a small clothes shop. The door swung loosely from it's hinges inviting him in. No doubt looters had taken advantage of the chaos and grabbed whatever they could carry which didn't appear to be much. He walked inside carefully scanning the darkness for movement. He paused for a moment in the women's maternity section near a pair of female mannequins. One wore a yellow sun dress while the other wore an open printed robe. Both stood poised cradling their bulging abdomens as if soothing the non-existent infant inside.

Ever since he stopped the young private from killing himself, he'd been thinking more and more about the future. If Infection truly was the end of the world they knew, perhaps he could preserve a little piece of it inside that mansion.

Guns went off in a café on the next corner. The Major snapped out of his trance and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Private Davis and Daniels emerged from the café and fired rapidly into the shop before running back towards the group. A crowd of Infected spilled out of the building and gave pursuit.

West jumped to the passenger seat of the nearest truck calling out to the others. "Move it! We've got company!"

The soldiers didn't need to be told twice. Clifton hopped into the driver seat and started up the engine as Jones climbed in back, pink apron and all. Mitchell jumped into the drivers seat of the second vehicle and turned it around.

Private Daniels tripped over his feet and tumbled to the ground. Dropping his gun, he scrambled to his feet and started to run again.

"Wait!" He cried upon seeing Davis reach Mitchell's truck first.

He could feel the gap closing behind him. The truck started to pull off.

"Come on!" Davis called. "Mitch, slow down!"

"Fuck him!" Mitchell yelled from the front seat and laid on the accelerator. "He'll keep them off our tail."

Fear agreed. "Drive! Go!"

His face torn with disbelief, Private Daniels fell to his knees and let the Infected consume him.

_Several Days Later_

As time passed the men were getting antsy. They were safe inside the mansion but the question still remained: what now? Even the Major couldn't deny his own earthly cravings. They couldn't very well go out looking for survivors so instead came up with a clever way to bring survivors to them. West took it upon himself to record the message that would bring them the comfort they need. During the day hours, a group of two or three men sat in wait at the blockade, hoping that survivors would hear the radio broadcast and women would join their group.

It didn't take the soldiers long to learn that burning the lights at night merely attracted the Infected so they learned to use candles when indoors. The mansions defenses held up during the first massive attack by the Infected. Though during cleanup Private Mailer soon discovered one of the Infected in the yard was only injured and alive. It took a chunk out of his neck moments before he whipped out his pistol and shot it dead. Everyone turned at the sound of the gunshots in time to see their friend collapse. It only took a few seconds before Mailer's eyes turned blood red and he started to gag on his own vomit.

The young Private was the first to reach him. "You alright man?"

Mailer snatched his head around and growled.

Jones started to back away slowly. "Shit!"

Behind him the others had their guns aimed but he stood in their line of fire. They yelled for him to move but fear froze him in place. Mailer leapt to his feet and attacked. Jones felt himself being shoved to the side just as Mitchell appeared and struck Mailer in the face hard with the butt of his gun. The infected soldier fell to the ground an lay still.

The Corporal turned to Jones breathing heavily and angry as hell. He yanked him up by his collar. "You stupid cunt! When I tell you to move your ass mate, YOU MOVE YOUR ASS!"

West and the rest of the men trotted up to them. "Is he dead?"

Mitchell watched Mailer's chest rise and fall. "No sir. I'll take him out."

"No." Everyone glanced at him nervously. "I want him chained up in the yard."

No one was eager to touch the infected man. By using a rope and a makeshift stretcher they were able to carry him and keep him at a distance should he wake up. They carefully secured a chain around his neck and left him in the back yard as ordered.

_Eight Days Ago_

The house was aroused with excitement when the Corporal radioed in that they had finally come in contact with survivors and among them were three promising females. They weren't the couture fashion models the soldiers had been fantasizing about nor had the best figures but they had the prettiest faces in the house. They were women; and to men that hadn't seen a pair of uninfected breasts in a month, they were beautiful.

With their spirits lifted and their faith in the Major restored, the soldiers seemed to forget their troubles and they were happier than ever. Oddly enough his second turned out to be the only naysayer in the group when West revealed his thoughts about the women.

Feeling empowered by it all, West carefully examined the small group. The sullen looks on their faces and their underwhelmed reaction to their welcoming celebration only proved that they'd been through a lot and were just plain tired. He knew it would take a little time but the girls would become more comfortable if he gained their trust. The young man that accompanied them showed promise but it was unclear how attached he was to the rest of his traveling party.

Somehow the Major assumed his boys would behave themselves till he could form a bond with their new friends. But the adrenaline rush from the Infected attack and excitement of having women in the house was just too much to hold in. The soldiers returned to the mansion proud and victorious and with the battle won they sub-conscientiously desired a reward.

"That was good eh?"

"That was fucking marvelous!"

Jim watched the soldiers minus one Sergeant return to the house from a nearby window. Selena stood in front of the doorway with the machete in her hand, still amazed by what she just witnessed. Mitchell was first notice her.

"Oh, hello," he said shoving his weapon into the pretty soldier's hands.

Bedford whistled.

"Listen sweetheart," Mitchell fixed his hair and approached her slowly. He casually took the machete from her and spoke very softly. "You ain't gonna be needing this anymore 'cause you got me to protect you now."

Giggles arose from the other men. Some egged him on.

Mitchell backed away a few steps and held the machete upright with both hands over his crotch. "You want to get your hands on a really big chopper, you just come and see me!"

The other men laughed childishly. Annoyed, she reached for the machete meaning to snatch it away from him but he moved it at the last second and she missed. Mitchell circled around her swinging the weapon playfully.

"Fuck you!" She spat.

"Well that's enough for Mitch!" Bell said over all the immature chuckling.

The Corporal handed the machete over to Clifton, not taking his eyes off the lovely damsel in front of him.

"Yeah, all right." He suddenly grabbed her and grinded his hips against her. "How about right now!"

Surprised, Selena struggled to push him away.

"Mitchell!" The Sergeant bellowed from the doorway, but the subordinate didn't listen.

At the same time Jim ran across the room and tried to pull the soldier away from her. Unfortunately, Jim hadn't done anything extremely physical since before his coma and his weak body could not overpower him. Mitchell quickly twisted Jim's arm behind his back and forced him to the floor.

"Easy tiger, you don't want to go picking a fight with me son." He warned.

Fed up with the display, Farrell shoved Bedford out of his way and smashed his gun over Mitchell's back. He fell forward next on the floor coughing and cringing in pain.

"Sergeant Farrell!!" Major West walked into the foyer glaring at his second-in-command. Everyone fell silent. "Mitchell, first action on?"

"Re-secure the perimeter, sir." He said trying to get to his feet.

"Then get to it!" West said sharply. "Jones, Bedford, go with him."

The three men left. West held out his hand to Clifton who handed over the machete gently.

"Slow down." He muttered to him in a low voice then turned to Farrell. "Sergeant."

"Sir?" Farrell replied strongly.

"Clear the bodies off the lawn." West's tone was stronger. "The rest of you go with him."

They left quietly.

He turned to Selena who had pressed herself against the stone replica of Laocoon in the middle of the room and held out the weapon to her. "My apologies."

Selena didn't seem satisfied. She snatched the machete away and stormed down the hall like an enraged serial killer. It appeared his plans to gain the women's trust had all been shattered. Jim started to follow her but remembered his other two companions were alone in the dinning room. He peeked down the adjacent hallway and saw Lucia watching from the doorway and motioned for her to come.

"Drink?" West asked him, secretly anxious to know how much damage was done.

Jim nodded and followed him into the drawing room. The Major went over to a table with several liquor bottles and started pour them into a couple of glasses. He could tell by Jim's hasty breathing that he wasn't going to let what just happened be ignored.

"Look, we're grateful, okay?" He started. "We're very grateful for your protection and just having found other people. But if we're going to stay here-"

"Who have you killed?" West cut in.

"I haven't killed anyone," Jim said quickly wanting to get back to the point.

"Since it began, who have you killed?" He topped off the final glass. "You wouldn't be alive right now if you hadn't killed somebody."

Jim hesitated to speak. The soldier handed him a glass and waited. It was a subject that most civilians wouldn't be able to answer with much pride. But in this case, Jim's returning feeling of remorse would momentarily make him forget his anger and it did.

"I killed a boy." Jim said with his eyes lowered.

"A child?" He tried to sound surprised.

Jim only nodded, expecting to be called a murderer at any moment.

"But you had to," It wasn't a question. "Otherwise he'd have killed you."

Jim seemed shocked and rose his eyes to meet the other man. He sighed heavily as if a weight had been lifted from his soul and he could take in the air much more clearly now.

"Survival. I understand. Infection isn't the end of our species. We can outlast it and start all over again. We can start here, in this mansion." West paused for a moment to let him take it in. "You're safe here Jim. We can all get through this alive. Don't you agree?"

Jim nodded quietly.

They sipped from their glasses. Alcohol never tasted so sweet.

"Until then we have to be civil toward each other and remember where we came from. I'm sorry for what happened out there," the Major said in a friendly tone. "They've been beside themselves from all the excitement these past few days. I'll see that it doesn't happen again."

Jim nodded and swallowed a few more gulps. "Good."

* * *

West awoke with a start and sat up. He wiped away the beads of sweat collecting on his forehead and gave his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness of the master bedroom. It wasn't the first nightmare to disturb his sleep. Though his hidden fears of Infection running rampant through the house seemed unlikely at this point, the idea of it wasn't exactly far-fetched. Humanity hadn't beat Infection yet, but he considered themselves to be pretty damn close.

He looked to the other side of the bed and barely made out Lucia's sleeping silhouette under the covers. Like the other women, she'd been unusually quiet all day but such temperament was expected after spending the night in confinement. Even when he announced Hannah was added to circulation again she didn't react. Suspicious, he stayed on guard all day expecting revenge at the end of a concealed weapon, but the day went without incident and the house went to bed peacefully.

Perhaps he'd finally tamed this shrew? It was too early to tell. He lay down next to Lucia and spooned her against him being careful to not wake her. Maybe it was a bit selfish to take a "bride" for himself but soon the radio broadcast would bring the house enough females so that all his men could keep a mate. But for now, this one belonged to him.

TBC


	9. Planning Ahead

**Writer's Notes:**I apologize for taking so long to update. This story is still alive. These last few chapters are important which is why it's taking so long to get them out. If I don't like something I end up rewriting more than I intended to. Anyway I like this version, hope all you subscribers do too.

**30 Days Later by Lastlegolife**

** Chapter 9: Planning Ahead**

The mansion had never been attacked after supper. Once the candles were out and the house settled down the Infected tended to ignore the property and went in search of other meals. Still, it was wise to keep one pair of eyes open all night just incase. Clifton slouched back in the Major's chair on the patio, his legs perched up on the carved stone railing. He stared up at the stars wishing for a cigarette. Smoking wasn't permitted during the night watch. Though no one yet fully understood the intelligence level of the Infected it didn't seem too unlikely that they were able to associate the scent of burning tobacco with people as they did with lights.

Whatever. He just wanted a damn cigarette.

The sound of boots dragging across the floor caused Clifton to sit up with a start. Private Davis emerged into the moonlight.

"Jesus, mate," Clifton said settling back into his chair. "That's a good way to get your head blown off." The private produced a pack of chewing tobacco and dropped it into the officer's lap. "You jammy bugger! Where'd you get this? I thought we were all out."

Davis folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "I found Mitch's stash. I figured you'd get the most use out of it." He paused. "I still can't believe he's dead. Old Mitch was as tough as nails."

Clifton peeled the plastic from the package and opened it. "He wasn't too tough to be outsmarted by a scrubber. A Yankee scrubber, no less."

"Well she sure gave you a good beating."

"Shut it before I put a bullet in your other cheek!" Clifton snapped. "What are you doing up anyway? You know it's your turn to be at the blockade tomorrow."

"I couldn't sleep," he admitted. "I've been thinking a lot lately."

"Don't hurt yourself mate," Clifton smiled through stuffed jaws.

He didn't think he'd care that much for the conversation but it beat staring off into space for the next four hours. It was Bedford's night with Selena and the rest of the residents were in bed, or at least, they were supposed to be. With the Sergeant out of the picture, most of the men took advantage of the relaxed rules under their newest officer who seemed to enjoy the power behind his title more than the work involved.

"If the girls are up the duff at the same time, what happens after that?"

"Does it really matter?" Clifton said jokingly.

"I'm serious! Wouldn't you want to know if you're the father? They'll all be mixed so it's going to be impossible to tell. And we have to teach it, raise it, and even train it. It's kind of startling when you think about it."

"You're alone there. That's the woman's problem. As long as I get my share of them I don't care what they do with it." He boasted.

"Confident you're shooting blanks then?"

"Heeey!" Clifton warned and Davis smirked and back down. "You're wasting your energy mate. There will be other girls. Prettier ones, I hope, and not so annoying. And it will be the same thing all over again. We'll eat when we get hungry. We'll sleep when we're tired. We'll shag when we're horny. And we'll die when we die." He continued. "Worries and regrets are a thing of the past, mate. Just enjoy life while we still got it."

Private Bell appeared on the patio using the moonlight to fasten his belt around his waist. He greeted the other soldiers silently with a nod of his head and turned to Davis. "The girl's all yours."

Davis nodded and disappeared into the darkness of the mansion as Clifton quietly settled back into his chair now in deep thought.

"Hey Bell," he said.

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever had milk from a pregnant woman?"

"Uh. . . no I haven't."

"I did once," Clifton smiled at the memory. "It was one of the best shags I've ever had. Every man should try it at least once."

"I see," Bell raised an eyebrow.

"It's too bad Lucy's the only one with the best tits for it," he said sloshing the tobacco around in his mouth.

"I'm going back to bed." Bell announced and sank back into the shadows, leaving Clifton alone on the patio mumbling to himself.

* * *

*****

Rapid movement and a rush of cool air pulled Henry out of his sleep. He opened his eyes and stretched his arm out to feel around for his companion. Instead of touching flesh he only felt Lucia's warmth in sheets where she'd been laying. He sat up sharply as his ears picked up noises coming from the bathroom. Quickly lighting a candle, he marched across the room in the nude and peered into the doorway.

He found Lucia's naked form squatting on the bathroom floor hugging the toilet bowl.

"Waverley?" He asked.

"I'm fine," she heaved. "Just give me-"

She vomited.

The Major held his breath. "Are you feeling ill?"

"Just give me five minutes," she demanded keeping her face away from him as he watched her. She ran her fingers through her hair and balled them into fists. "I said I'll be there in a minute! Go back to bed!"

West obligingly returned to the bedroom, blowing out the candle on his way. He lay awake listening to her frequent sighs and movements. Finally the toilet flushed and the water ran for a while. Ten minutes later Lucia emerged and crawled back into bed. He wrapped a comforting arm around her waist but she refused to meet his eyes.

"Was it something you ate perhaps?" He said hoping it wasn't. She wrung her hands around the bed sheets anxiously.

"I guess," she replied quietly.

"Are you sure? It may be something else."

"It's just a stomach ache," she said and laid down.

The Major simply settled in beside her and shut his eyes. When he opened them again a few hours later, the sun was rising. He rolled over to find Lucia still awake where he'd left her. He threw his leg over hers and pulled a thin bedspread over their heads. The light in the room seeped through the cover allowing them to see each other underneath it.

"You're upset," it was more of an observation than a question.

"It took you _this _long to figure that out?" Lucia said acidly.

"Are you going to talk to me about it or just be bitchy?"

"Don't pretend to know me. We're not friends. You don't know anything about me."

"I know you better than anyone in this house."

"You don't know shit!" she snapped. "I'm just a somebody that missed the fucking plane. I'm nothing more to you than one of your goddamn sex slaves. You don't know a fucking thing about me!"

It was the first time he'd heard her swear so much in one breath. He paused a moment and pitied her for all of two seconds then spoke calmly. "I know you're having trouble letting go of the guilt over killing your best mate."

She shook her head. "This isn't about her. It's about being put into a role I didn't ask for."

"But you agreed to it."

"How dare you! As if I ever had a choice! I'm not dumb. You fucks had this planned from the beginning."

"Not quite, but who knew we'd get such a fiery lot." West bobbed his head in thought and started over. "You're worried about what happened last night."

"It's just proof that being this close to you makes me sick. You should move me back to my own room," she said avoiding his eyes.

"So much venom," he commented. "Don't be afraid of it Lucy. It's only natural that this should happen."

"Not when it's rape," she muttered. "And it was only a stomach ache for crying out loud."

"Whatever it is, I don't want you to be afraid of what the future might bring. A baby right now would be the best thing for this house."

"Please shut up."

"It would be good for you too."

"You just don't get it do you?!" Lucia snapped. "I didn't ask for this! I don't want this! I don't want to be here! It's _my _choice, _my _terms. Not yours."

She flung the covers away and slid a leg off the bed with the intent to slam the bathroom door in his face but strong arms pulled her back to the mattress. Before she knew it, the Major had straddled her and used his weight to pin her body down. She swore at him and demanded her release.

"I don't care if you don't want to hear this, but nothing will ever change what we have Waverley. No matter how pissed you are or how much you don't like it, this is what life is for us now. Infection destroyed everything so we could start over."

"_I_ can change it," she promised. "And I won't let anything stop me."

"_We_ can change it." He leaned forward and kissed her. "We didn't make it this far for nothing Waverley. We've been given a second chance to carve out a new future for ourselves... create and civilize the world as it should be."

_Adolf. _"You're insane."

"You're pregnant."

"I AM NOT!"

_That's right, it's too early to have symptoms. These things don't start showing up for a few weeks right? It's too soon dammit. It's too soon!_

"If you believe that then why are you crying?" West wiped the moisture from her cheek and held it up to her face.

Lucia fell silent as he started to plant kisses along her neck and whisper soothing words in her ear. She ignored them while her mind gave into reality. She suddenly remembered a report one of her classmates presented in college on teen pregnancy and STDs. Being a virgin at the time, she didn't care to pay attention to the information. The only fact that caught her interest was that some women were so convinced they were expecting that they would sometimes physically develop the symptoms. Two weeks ago should she could tell herself that and believe it, but now there was no telling what was happening inside her body. She struggled to remember her last menstrual cycle and drew a blank. Did she even have one this month? Her heart sank into her stomach.

The Major released her arms and began to give her a body massage. Lucia reached up to claw at him futilely as he positioned her. It dawned on him that it was also the first time she'd ever attacked him. Why hadn't she done it sooner? Perhaps it was better that she got it out of her system now than later. Angry women retaliated. Scared women usually did something stupid. Hopefully this would be her last stupid act of the season. She cursed at him in between sobs as he proceeded to make love to her.

"I hate you," she whispered.

"I know."

* * *

****

Activity around the breakfast table was the same as usual. Hannah set the places while Selena poured the drinks. The soldiers gabbed amongst themselves as they stuffed their faces with hot instant oatmeal, powdered tang, and the last of the eggs in storage. Everyone had learned by now not to wait for the rest of the house to show up and began eating right away. This morning however, the Major came to the table alone, earning awkward stares from the women. Selena noted the two thin pink scratches along his neck. It sent an icy chill down her back and then a streak of anger.

"What happened to Lucy?" Hannah asked as he took his seat at the head of the table.

"She's resting upstairs," he said to her in a conversational tone. "She wasn't feel well this morning. Selena, why don't you run upstairs and take her some breakfast. Jones will go with you."

Biting back an outburst, Selena nodded and went to the kitchen to fetch a spare serving tray. She tried not to seem too eager to know what had become of her American friend. The look in the Major's eyes left her feeling uneasy. Had he done something terrible? Would she find Lucia broken and bloody on the bedroom floor? She prayed silently that it wasn't true. The pretty private escorted her upstairs to the master bedroom and unlocked the door for her.

"Five minutes," he told her. Being the most lenient of all the subordinates, he allowed her to go into the room alone.

Selena was briefly in awe at the size of the room. These accommodations greatly surpassed her little two-person hole in the wall. The bed was still unmade with the linens tossed about. No sign of blood. The remnants of a smoldering cigarette butt lay in an ashtray on the bedside table. It appeared she was alone in the room.

"Lucy?" Selena called. "Are you in here?

"In here," came a voice from the bathroom.

"I brought you breakfast," she announced as she entered.

Clad in only a red silk robe, Lucia sat curled up on the bathroom floor with one hand cuffed to a pipe lining the wall. With a gasp, Selena set the tray down and kneeled before her.

"My God! What's he done to you?" She started to tear up as she examined the fresh bruises on her neck and arms. "Are you hurt?"

"We had an argument," she drifted off. "I guess I lost."

Lucia closed her eyes and shook her head. She shivered from the chill coming from the open balcony. Selena graciously closed the doors before ripping a comforter from the bed to cover her up.

"I'm so sorry I said you were only looking out for yourself," Selena sobbed and began to babble. "I had no idea. What was I thinking? Damn them all! I mean, when he came down alone I knew something was wrong and then I saw the marks I thought for sure he'd done something terrible to you. Are you alright?"

"No I'm not," Lucia swallowed hard and stared her friend in the eye. "Selena, he's done something terrible."

* * *

*****

Lucia glanced at the kitchen window carefully judging the time by the fading sunlight. She put together a vegetarian pasta salad while Hannah started on a graham cracker crust. Selena was busy nearby preparing a chunky soup from an old family recipe. She opened another can of broth and set the tattered metal lid on the table. Jones watched closely as Lucia mixed together canned pumpkin puree, sweetened condensed milk, sugar and spices and turned it into a pie. He couldn't believe there were so many combinations of cuisines sitting in the old pantry that he never knew about. He swore to himself that he'd bring her back a fancy set of kitchenware and cooking machines the next time they went out shopping.

"Do you promise to be a good girl?" West asked when he'd returned to release her. He helped her to her feet and gave her a soft kiss. "Let's not fight again."

After washing up Lucia rejoined the others downstairs as if nothing had happened. No one said anything nor asked her any questions. She tended to the daily chores with the girls and started dinner on time as usual.

"Are you sure you've never been to culinary school?" Private Jones asked her again for the third time.

Lucia twisted the corner of her mouth into a half smile. "Nope."

At the other end of the room, an underwhelmed Bedford sat back on a stool with his head resting on the wall trying to stay awake. He could care less about what was cooking as long as it was edible.

Lucia set her pie in a cool place and peeked at the window. "Can you help me light some candles?"

Jones nodded and went over to fetch the matches from the shelf. Lucia glanced back at Selena with a knowing look then joined him.

The older woman nodded slightly and scooped some of the soup into a smaller bowl, stuck a spoon in it, and went to Bedford. "I want to take this to Major West to taste."

"Just let me taste it." He said reaching for the spoon but Selena moved it away.

"No, it's for him." She declared.

"Why? Is it poisoned?"

Selena rolled her eyes. "Don't be stupid. If I was going to I'd have done it A LOT sooner. I just want to know if he likes it. If not I'm going to make something else."

Bedford just didn't care anymore. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll be right back Jones."

He stood and walked her up the steps and out of the room.

Selena slowed to a stop as Bedford made a left instead of a right at the junction in the hall.

"Isn't West usually over here?" She asked.

Bedford shook his head and motioned for her to come. "Nope, he's by the courtyard."

She let him lead her down the long corridor, carefully balancing the warm soup bowl in her hands. The glass doors leading out into the garden at the end of the hall hung wide open. Outside Major West and Clifton were at the edge of the steps going over plans to secure the far wall.

"Sir," Bedford called getting their attention. "A little taste of tonight's supper."

Bedford turned around just in time to see Selena fling the bowl at his head. His reflexes kicked in but all the days spent lowering his guard finally paid off and he failed to block it. His face and hair were drenched with hot soup. The spices stung at his eyes and nose. He screamed and wiped at them viciously.

Selena raced back to the junction point and ran towards the front of the house. The soldiers gave chase.

"Selena, my love! Come back my little dumpling!" Clifton called after her.

She lead them back to the foyer and bolted for the front doors. Just as she reached the patio Private Bell appeared at her flank and grabbed hold of her shirt. The crafty Selena swiftly yanked the blouse over her head and kept running. Bell was so surprised that he paused for a moment to stare at her in shock.

"Bell!" Clifton growled.

"What in the hell is she doing!?" He asked.

Outside, Selena glanced over her shoulder to see how far away her pursuers were. Much to their surprise she did not make a break for the gates and suddenly changed her course toward the mine field. She flew over the sandbag border and kept going with her arms outstretched like an Olympic runner.

"Oh my God!"

"Selena!" Clifton cried after her. "Have you fucking gone mad! What the hell are you doing?"

Back inside the house, sounds of the commotion had carried down into the kitchen. Jones paused in the middle of lighting a candle and looked towards the door.

He handed the box of matches to Lucia. "Here, keep lighting them."

Jones picked up his gun and hurried down the hall, glancing back only once at the two girls before heading into the hall.

Back at the front of the house, Selena sprinted across the lawn hard and fast as the helpless soldiers watched from the barricade. Remarkably, she managed to reach the center of the yard unscathed. She listened to the soldiers pleas as they began to fade away. Jim hadn't returned in all this time and they were all foolish to think he would. The soldiers had him outnumbered and if their defenses didn't keep him back the Infected surely would. She didn't blame him for leaving them behind. The only thing she regretted was not telling him how she felt when she had the chance.

Jim.

The blast sent parts of Selena's body flying in all directions. Shocked, the men could only stare in disbelief, slack jawed and wide-eyed. Clifton leaned over the sandbags and cradled his head in his hands.

Bell shook his head. "Wha... why'd she do it?"

West closed his eyes to contemplate it for a few seconds before realization struck him. Turning on his heel, he rushed back into the house in time to hear:

"_JONES YOU FUCKING IDIOT! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE WATCHING THEM!"_

No sooner than he stepped into the door, he heard the shouting. Jones was calling for him. With the others following behind he raced towards the kitchen passing Bedford on the way. His ears picked up sounds of a struggle ahead. The men flew into the kitchen and took in the scene. In one corner of the room Davis sat on the floor holding a tearful Hannah down against his chest. The gashes on her wrists covered her pale arms with crimson blood. Jones caught one of them and pressed a towel firmly against the wound as she flailed angrily in protest.

"What's happened?" West asked.

Davis readjusted his grip. "These two were shoving handfuls of pills down their throat when I came in. This one started slashing her wrist when she saw me."

Standing quietly on the opposite end of the room, Lucia washed the dishes as if oblivious to the chaos happening nearby. On the table sat a bloody can lid and the satchel the late Sergeant had slipped to her in secret. West examined a few of the empty medicine bottles scattered around it while Bell went over to help Jones with Hannah.

The Major calmly came to stand next to Lucia. "How many did you take?"

"Enough to destroy the future you're so eager to push on me," she smiled proudly and turned so she could stare into his blazing blue eyes. "I told you I could change it."

"Why'd you do it Lucy?" Jones looked as if he were going to burst into tears soon. "Why did you have to hurt yourself?"

"She emotional because she's pregnant," Major West announced, "and still very much in denial about it."

A silence fell over the room.

"Really?" Davis asked first.

"Of course not. He just _wants _it to be true," Lucia clenched her jaw and raised her chin defiantly. "Well you can forget about that. We're already dead, and soon you'll be dead too."

"We'll see about that," He went to the sink and washed his hands. "Hold her down."

Bedford and Clifton seized Lucia forced her to her knees while West kneeled before her. He squeezed her jaws to force her mouth open. She frantically tried to pull her head away but Clifton held her still. West pried her jaws open and stuck two fingers into her mouth. Lucia whimpered helplessly as he reached her uvula. Any attempt to bite seemed to make it easier for him. Within moments she began to heave. He pulled his hand away and she vomited a small sea of foaming mucus and pills. Lucia's eyes started to tear and her neck muscles tightened outlining every vein near the surface of her skin. Some of it started to drip from her nose.

"The girl too," West called to the other group.

Realizing what he meant, Hannah started to cry and fight. "No just let us die! Just let us die!"

Davis couldn't believe his ears. "Do you even know what you're saying girl?"

The unmistakable rumble of a mine exploded outside causing a second hush over the room.

"No fucking way!" Clifton said as another mine went off.

"Fuck _me!" Bell _breathed.

West went into combat mode. "Davis grab the girl and come with me. The rest of you get to your posts! Move!"

The men scrambled to their feet and hurried outside. The automatic flood lights revealed a horde of Infected racing across the yard. Alerted by the explosion that killed Selena the roaming plague-bearers followed the sound all the way to the mansion lights.

West lifted Lucia over his shoulder and headed to the basement followed by Bedford with Hannah cradled in his arms. Both girls had strangely calmed down and said nothing when they were tied up again.

"Do you think it'll still work?" Hannah asked when they were alone in the dark.

The gunfire and explosions echoed through the house.

"It is so far." Lucia replied.

"I mean your drugs... did you lose them all?"

"Most of them I think... damn him," she swore. "I could always just bleed out my tongue though it's going to hurt like hell."

Hannah was silent for a moment. "I hope it happens soon. I don't want to be around when they get in."

"We won't," Lucia assured her. "Now try to rest."

"Do you think the Infected killed Jim?" Hannah continued. "Do you think he's still out there? As one of them?"

"I don't know Hannah."

The explosions outside sounded closer. The firing became more intense. More Infected scaled the walls. The soldiers showered the sky with bullets, dropping bodies everywhere. Had any of them taken a moment to glance at the sky, they would have noticed a slow moving object passing overhead.


	10. Across the Pond

**Writers Note:** Here is another key chapter that I wrote before the damn sequel came out and I totally flipped when I saw the movie. Anyway, enjoy.

30 Days Later

by Lastlegolife

Chapter 10: Across the Pond

Clear skies promised to bake up and an awful stench come noon from the hundred or so fresh corpses that lay scattered about the yard. The mess in the kitchen and food from the previous night sat spoiled and untouched. The house was as silent as the dead.

Major West stood by the remnants of shattered glass doors overlooking what was left of the garden. His face was scratched and dirty and his uniform disheveled and soiled however it was the least of his concerns. The sanctuary he'd created had crumbled in a single night. His dream of starting over had turned into a nightmare. The arrival of the women was supposed to mean new life and guarantee survival of man but it seemed to only weaken it.

The carefully timed explosion seemed to alert every waking Infected within earshot. Even with diluted numbers the soldiers stood strong. Some Infected worked their way to the main gates and tried to climb the iron bars. Others attempted to scale the walls but became snagged on the barbed wires. Davis and Bedford took their guns to the front yard and picked them off through the fence. When the crippled gate finally gave away, the soldiers were forced to retreat into the house.

Private Bell was captured on the steps and devoured. His leg still sore from the knife wound, it failed him as he turned to flee. His demise allowed enough time for the remaining men to take positions in the foyer. The Infected smashed through the windows of the drawing room to their right flank. They sprayed both entry ways with every thing they had. A few carefully aimed grenades through the windows put helpful gaps in the continuous onslaught. A thick cloud of gun powder smoke floated through the air. The men feared the house would catch fire at any moment.

When ammo was getting low, all hope seemed lost but miraculously the flow of Infected started to slow and finally ceased. Tired and hungry, the soldiers remained vigilant through the night for any signs of movement. At first light they finally pushed the corpses from the door way and accessed the damage. The beauty of the first floor that had taken the women days to accomplish was now riddled with bullet holes, splintered wood, and shards of broken glass.

The soldiers headed to the downstairs basement expecting the worse. Both girls still lie where they had been tied up, unconscious and unresponsive. A closer observation showed they had not died during the assault but without medical attention it appeared death was imminent. Afraid to move the girls right away, West had pillows and blankets brought down for them. Hannah's arms were cleaned and bandaged. Jones volunteered to keep watch over them till the Major plotted their next move. The next few hours were critical.

The future of their little group seemed uncertain. There were countless bodies and gallons of Infected blood to be handled. New mines needed to be laid and the front gate had to be fixed before nightfall. It was clear the mansion wouldn't even withstand a mini-attack with gaping holes in the windows and walls. With only the five of them working together it would take days to get everything up to par, but was it worth the risk?

Clifton emerged from the gloomy house. "Sir."

"What is it?"

"She's awake now."

"Wake Bedford and prepare the trucks." He was silent for a moment in thought. We're leaving."

Clifton acknowledged the order and let out a heavy sigh after West had gone. Frustrated, he kicked over a body that lay draped across the railing.

Inside the basement the Major gently motioned for Jones to leave the room and kneeled next to Lucia.

"Waverley?"

He tried again.

"Waverley?"

Her eyes rolled around as she struggled to focus. She felt fingers touching her hair and face. After a few moments her vision cleared enough to see the older man's strong brow hovering above her.

Lucia made a noise which he took for a response.

"You survived the night, so I hope that means you'll live. You've always been the fighter," he paused and stroked her hair again. "You didn't have to do this you know. Things were peaceful here. I . . . might have put you through a lot but it was for your own safety."

"Where's Hannah?" Lucia said once she found her voice.

"Sleeping."

Her mouth was incredibly dry. "Selena?"

West hesitated. "Dead."

"Good girl."

"It didn't have to be this way Waverley. We could survive and be happy together. We still can be."

"You still don't get it, do you?" Lucia sighed heavily. She felt like crying but couldn't muster the moisture to produce any tears. "You have no right to decide what our future will be. Infection stole our lives away from us and you took away the bit of freedom we had left. We decided to take back control."

West only stared at her silently to take in her words. It was as if he were hearing her for the first time.

A rapid knock at the door shattered the moment.

"What is it?" He called angrily.

It was Davis. "Sir! There's an army brigade coming up the road!"

West hopped to his feet and snatched the door open. "Are you sure?"

The young private nodded and pointed toward the front of the house. "Yes, looks like there's a whole fleet of them!"

Major West started down the hall with Davis in tow. He paused briefly to send Jones back to the basement before hurrying outside. He almost didn't believe his eyes. A long train of armored vehicles were coming up the dirt road. A sudden bolt of relief, realization, and anxiety struck the Major all at once.

England was alive.

The sheer size of the brigade proved it. Such a thing wouldn't exist if there weren't some corner of the country still thriving with life. But whereas he should have felt happiness he suddenly felt the anvil of reality. What story could he possibly give to explain the raped teenager and the drugged woman handcuffed in the basement?

Clifton and Davis pulled the barb wire gate open graciously allowing the vehicles access to the front yard.

"We're fucking saved!" Clifton laughed hysterically.

There was no time to think.

The vehicles came to a halt in front of the house and armed British soldiers hopped out and awaited command. Among them was an older man rich with an aura of superiority and a rank to match it. Lieutenant-Colonel Warwick stepped out of a hummer and approached the house. West and the others stood at attention and saluted him respectively.

"At ease Soldier. From the looks of things I'd say you and your men have had it rough. You're lucky we found you in time."

"We're relieved to know that there are so many survivors."

"More than you think," Warwick replied giving the mansion a quick once over. "Your broadcast tipped us off on your location. How many of you are there?"

"Only five sir, including myself; all part of the British Army," he said proudly.

"You've done well here Soldier. Most of the survivors we've found have nearly starved to death," he said. "Have you come across any civilians?"

"No Sir. The few we've seen fell to the Infected before we could reach them in time."

Clifton and Davis exchanged glances but said nothing.

"That's too bad. I was hoping to bring a few back with me to base camp."

"Our broadcast has been playing for weeks now and no one else has come forward. We fear that all the surviving civilians in the area died while trying to reach us."

"That's unfortunate. We've seen so few make it out of the cities alive," he said sympathetically though his stone features remained solid. "That's quite a shame indeed."

With a flick of his hand the troops waiting behind him rushed into the mansion. A pair of them moved next to Clifton and Davis who eyed them suspiciously. Major West glanced at another group rounding the building to enter the side doors in confusion. Red flags lit up his senses.

It was then he noticed a dark-haired man disguised in military camouflage step out of a hummer. Jim trotted past the two officers making eye contact with West as he went by. The Major's expression turned into surprise as he watched the younger man disappear into the mansion. He turned back to Lieutenant-Colonel Warwick who glared at him with a cold, hard stare that made his heart pound.

Inside, the soldiers spread out cautiously all over the house.

"Hannah?" Jim called as they snaked their way through the halls. "Selena?"

They moved upstairs toward the bedrooms. Up ahead a door opened and Bedford poked his head out. The soldiers seized him at once and checked his pockets for concealed weapons. The surprised Private swore out loud but his protests went ignored.

Jim hurried into the bedroom to search for his friends but found no one and returned to Bedford. "Where are they? Where are they damn you!"

The man holding the fallen soldier squeezed harder.

Bedford gritted his teeth in pain. "In the basement."

Jim was down the stairs in a flash.

"The basement!" He called ahead.

The nearby soldiers reached for the door knob as it swung open. Jones shrieked in surprise at the sight of several guns aimed at him at once. Before he could mutter a word they yanked him out and onto the floor.

"What the bloody hell? I'm one of you!" He demanded. Finally he spotted Jim. "You! I thought we killed you!"

"You missed."

Jim followed the soldiers into the basement. Hannah's motionless form was the first to be found. He fell to her side and tried to shake her awake her but she was unresponsive. He noticed right away she was deathly pale. Someone upstairs announced the discovery and called for the medic. Jim began to tear up and squeezed her hand. It was then he saw the bandages and the bruises on her arms. The exposed skin around her collar was littered with passion marks. The sight was too much and he began to tremble.

"There's another one over here."

Jim rose to his feet and found Lucia where the Major had left her sleeping. "Lucia!"

The young American was drenched with sweat. Jim touched her hair and shook her shoulder a bit. Her head flopped around as if she were lifeless. A streak of dried drool ran from the corner of her mouth to the blankets.

"Lucia?" He begged anxiously. Her skin radiated with the warmth of a fever. "Wake up. Open your eyes."

"Jim?"

"We got two!" A soldier called from the hall as more men entered the basement to check it out.

Jim wiped away the tears from his cheeks. "Yes, I've come back get you like I promised."

She tried to smile but winced instead. "Turn that music down please. It's giving me a headache."

"What music? There is no music."

"Someone set the cat on fire again," she muttered, visibly struggling to keep her eyes open. "Tell that jerk-off he can hang his own damn drapes."

"What's the matter with you?" Jim brushed her hair back to observe her pupils. "Did they give you something?"

"Selena?" She asked suddenly.

"Do you know where they're keeping her?"

"I'm sorry," Lucia spoke so low that he had to lean in close to hear her. "Selena is dead."

Jim gasped in disbelief. "What?"

Lucia blinked at him sleepily. "She's gone."

A C.M.T. and his assistant rushed into the room. Jim moved out of the way still shocked at the news.

"What's her name?" The assistant asked him.

"Lucia," he replied swallowing hard. "I think she's been drugged."

"I got a pulse over here," the C.M.T announced from Hannah's side. He shined a miniature flashlight into her eyes with his fingers pressed to her neck. "It's faint but it's there. No signs of the Rage virus. We need to get this one back to base right now." He said lifting her in his arms.

"Send a stretcher back. We got to get this one on ice." The assistant called after him as he removed Lucia's handcuffs.

Jim slipped out of the room to let her be examined in peace and walked slowly into the foyer. There were soldiers going through every inch of the house looking for more suspects and survivors. Upon stepping out onto the porch there were gunshots coming from the side of the house where a starved and weakened Mailer was being kept. Someone shouted that all was well and everyone went back to their duties.

The five accused men were lined up in front of the house on their knees with their hands fastened behind their head. Several others stood around them on guard. Major West watched Jim come out of the house dragging his feet. He went over to the wall, leaned against it, and lowered his head. Lieutenant-Colonel Warwick headed over to him and spoke. Jim closed his eyes, said something, and shook his head in grief.

The C.M.T. stood before the commanding officer at attention.

"Sir, two female civilians were found bound in the basement. The girl is in need of immediate attention. I have to fly her back to base now or I'll lose her."

"Do whatever it takes to keep them alive." Warwick replied then dismissed him.

The C.M.T. hopped into a truck where Hannah had already been loaded up and it took off with an escort in tow. A stretcher was pulled from another vehicle and dragged into the house. Shortly thereafter, Lucia was carried out. The sweat on her face and body started to dry but underneath her temperature was rising. The assistant trailed along side of the stretcher asking her questions to keep her conscious.

West watched as they loaded her into the truck. He cast his eyes downward, wrought with embarrassment, and a sort of fear he never believed he'd ever feel again. After all these weeks, the arrival of a rescue party didn't seem likely or even possible to him. How could there be when the entire world had suffered the same fate? Somehow he didn't believe Warwick's story about hearing his broadcast. If it was clear enough to reach them now it was clear enough five weeks ago. They hadn't come to rescue their own; they came to rescue the women.

Overcome with emotion, Jones came to see the truth behind the Majors agenda and the result was here. For the first time in five weeks, he realized their wrongdoings and it made him ache inside.

"I'm sorry Lucy!" Jones cried out to her. "I'm so sorry!"

"Shut it you wanker," Bedford snapped.

"That's not gonna fucken help," Davis growled.

No one knows exactly when he moved but Jim slipped passed the armed guards and landed a hard blow on Henry West's face. The Major fell backwards and prepared to defend himself.

"I'll kill you!!" Jim screamed and landed a few more blows. Two soldiers grabbed him by the arms and pulled him back before he could advance any further. "You killed her! You fucking killed Selena you bastard!"

West got back to his knees under the watchful eyes of his guards.

"We didn't kill anyone, they did that to themselves!" Clifton protested. "We had nothing to do with it."

"Shut your gob!" One of the guards snapped.

Jim relaxed and squeezed his eyes shut as he began to sob out loud. The two soldiers led Jim over to Warwick who signaled for them to release him. Jim struggled to control his breathing. His vision was blurred with anger and tears.

"Go with them Jim," the older man said. "We can do the rest here."

Jim nodded and jumped into the back of the truck with Lucia.

The five accused watched the truck and its jeep escort leave the property and disappear down the dirt path.

Jim sat in silence as he watched the medic prepare a syringe. He swabbed Lucia's arm with a cotton ball and began to draw blood. Even though the truck was gently swaying back and forth, he made the whole process look simple.

"Jim, I need you to talk to your friend here." The assistant told him. "Keep her awake while I radio ahead so they'll be ready for us when get on the ground."

Jim nodded and crawled over to where Lucia was laying. Her eyes were half open and glazed over. He touched her face and she made a noise. At first he didn't have the slightest idea of what to say to his foreign friend. He couldn't help but feel sorry for himself and sorry for the girls for having to suffer for so long. He was too late to save Selena and now it might be too late for the others. Jim swore to himself if they all died he would never stop coming after Henry West until he was dead.

No judgment could satisfy Jim but to beat the very life out of the Major with his bare hands. Tears welded up into his eyes once more. Selena was dead. It was certain to him that her death wasn't quick, but a slow bleeding torture. He didn't want to see her body... if they found it. He wanted to remember her just as beautiful as she was the night when he first met her...

Jim managed to escape the mansion but getting away from the Infected in the forest proved to be much more difficult. He was forced to drive many miles out before he could finally stop the car. He found the secluded area where Frank, he, and the girls had spent the night and rested. When morning came, he ate some food that was left over in the car and contemplated on how he was going to save the girls. He returned to the blockade minutes before a jeep approached carrying Mitchell and Bedford.

Fortunately enough for Jim they didn't see him and he was able to retreat. He parked the taxi in the woods and snuck his way back to the mansion. He got as close as the front yard before he had to stop. Remembering West's tour of the house, he recalled him saying that the lawn was full of land mines and traps. The only way to get close to the house was to follow the road and risk being seen.

Jim returned to the taxi a couple of hours before sunset. He drove around the surrounding areas, taking roads he had never seen before. He had to find some sort of shelter for the night and fast. He came across an empty cottage sitting in the middle of nowhere. It looked safe enough, so he covered the windows and barricaded himself into the back bedroom.

The next morning he was awoken by a low humming sound. At first he thought it was part of a dream but soon realized that it wasn't. He hurried to the nearest window and peeked out as a jet passed high overhead. Jim ran out of the house screaming and waving his arms but the pilot didn't see him. After that he became determined to flag it down. It passed by every other day and each time it never saw him. Jim searched the house for buckets of white paint but all he found was red and blue. He wrote out the word "Help" in the grass with big letters and drew an arrow pointing at the cottage. The rain washed most of his message away and the colors were too muted be seen from the air.

Finally he got the idea to tie brightly colored sheets together instead and laid them out on the lawn. He was picked up the next day. It took some time to convince the powers that be that his friends were being raped and tortured by surviving military personnel. Jim noted their reluctance to do anything about it at first but they finally agreed to go to the mansion. A few thermal images of the house the previous night during the battle gave undeniable proof that there was life still thriving inside those walls.

After a ten minute ride, the truck and its escort passed through the ruins of the 42nd blockade. It was crawling with soldiers whom were shifting through the rubble. If it weren't for her condition Lucia would have cried out in joy for she would be the first to point out that they were all American. The soldiers allowed the truck passage and the three vehicles continued on.

Up ahead there were two helicopters sitting in the middle of the road, their blades still spinning. A heavy defense team covered the surrounding areas near the copters along with sandbags and barb wire. They arrived as the one carrying Hannah lifted into the air and flew away. The soldiers unloaded Lucia and put her into the other chopper. Jim followed quietly.

The medic checked Lucia's vitals again. Her heartbeat was slow and steady but her temperature remained high.

The engine revved up and the vessel began it's ascent into the sky. It rose above the tree line and started heading southwest towards the Isle of Dogs where thousands of British civilian survivors had fled. During the beginning of Infection, the surrounding countries offered a helping hand to England in it's time of need. The Rage virus never made it across seas or the even the ocean. The world around the tiny island was still intact. Even England's politicians had made it out of the country alive. Refugees were scattered all around the surrounding nations across the English Channel.

The chopper flew over several warships and aircraft carriers floating in the waters around the Isle of Man. Each one was topped off with an allied flag. To the south French and Norwegian fleets patrolled the channel waters and scanned the English countryside for more survivors. As the helicopter closed in on the shore, a voice cracked on the radio and requested identification. The pilot gave them a quick reply and they were immediately given the okay to continue on their present course to safety.


End file.
